Darkly Treacherous
by xxlostdreamerxz
Summary: AU: What if Harry grew up neglected by his parents? What if he had been kidnaped by Voldemort and raised as his dark heir? Read and find out!
1. Default Chapter

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

Summary: What if Harry was neglected by his parents? What if he had been kidnapped by Voldemort and raised as his dark Heir?

'thoughts'

_/Parseltongue/_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Blood**

_"Home is where the heart is..."_

* * *

**4 Years Old: **

"Mummy? Daddy?" he whispered timidly, as he slowly crept towards the general direction of the angry screams and curses. Harry had woken up a few minutes ago to the sound of sobs and angry voices. Voices that he recognized as his parents. He couldn't help but feel worried. 'Why were they angry?' Clutching his favorite 'blankie' tightly, Harry stopped abrupt in front of the entrance to his father's study. He could see a crack of light streaming out from the bottom of the door...

"Why!" he heard his mother cry. "Why does it have to be _him_? He is only a child!" There was a loud smash as glass shattered against the wall. "Damn it Dumbledore, you know that prophecies aren't always true! Perhaps you've misinterpreted it or something."

Harry's eyes widened with curiosity. 'Prophecy?'

A shiver went up his spine as he heard the next voice. He didn't know what it was, but...it was old yet powerful. It was...magical? "Lily, you must understand," the voice said evenly. "...that all prophecies are true. Nothing, not even death can prevent it from happening."

"But..."

"This prophecy that concerns your youngest son _is_ true," the voice continued, "I have double-checked all possible interpretations and have come to the conclusion that Nate _is_ the prophesized child. He will be the one who shall carry the burden of destroying the Dark Lord Voldemort."

If possible, Harry's eyes grew even wider at the man's proclamation. Nate, his baby brother, was going to destroy You-Know-Who? An excited smile grew on his face. _Wicked._

This time, it was his father would replied. "Dumbledore, please," he said softly, "Could you tell us the prophecy? So that we could see if it is true ourselves?" His father coughed lightly, before continuing. "You must understand. This is my _son_ you're talking about. I won't allow him to be thrown into danger just like that."

There was a long silence.

"Very well, James," Dumbledore conceded, with a defeated sigh. "I will relay the first part of the prophecy to you and Lily for the time being. The second part will have to wait, understood?"

"Alright..."

Harry's smile grew wider, as he leaned his ear against the wall. Golly, this was turning out to be quite the adventure. He couldn't wait to tell Nate!

**"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,**

**Born to those who have thrice defied his. **

**A boy of gold and emerald shall rise, with blood so slight,**

**As second in line, of history's past legacy..." **

Harry pouted. Why did adults have to use such big words?

"But Dumbledore, what about Harry?" questioned James. "Couldn't he also fit under this prophecy?"

Dumbledore murmured quietly, "No James, I am positive. I have researched quite extensively upon this prophecy." The man paused for a moment. "The last line is the one that makes me believe that Nate is the prophecy child. And it is your Gryffindor ancestry that proves this point."

Harry blinked in confusion. 'Ancestry?'

"How's that relevant?"

Dumbledore leaned back against his chair. "Because, as your second-born son, Nate is second in line of the greatest wizarding linage in our world. Godric Gryffindor made quite a name for himself during his time in Hogwarts. He was known as the founder of modern society. And from what I believe, Nate shall gain in time unlock his powers and defeat Voldemort."

Someone sighed loudly. "But...then what can we do right now?"

Harry stifled a yawn, as he leaned against the wall. This conversation was getting boring fast. He wanted to go back to bed. However, much to Harry's luck, the wood panel that he'd been leaning against for a good half-hour suddenly creaked loudly as he stood up.

At the sound, Harry heard loud thumps coming from the room. And moments later, the door swung open, revealing the irate forms of his mother, father, and Dumbledore.

'Oopsie..."

* * *

Harry blinked innocently up at his parents, as they quickly shooed him into the room. His eyes watered slightly before adjusting to the bright, glaring lights. His father's study looked distinctly _scary_ at the moment. 

"Harry James Potter, what were you doing out of bed at this hour!" demanded Lily, the moment her son sat down. Her emerald green eyes which were wet with tears gleamed with annoyance. "And spying on us none the less! Have you no shame?"

The boy flinched at her harsh words. "I...I..." Harry swallowed as he stared beseechingly into his parents eyes. "I heard screams...I was worried about you."

Lily sighed, as if all her anger leaked out. She buried her head in her hands, feeling the strain that's been bugging her for the entire day. This was too much. First there was the prophecy and now...what was she to do with Harry?

"Harry-child," called Dumbledore, as a worried glint flashed across his eyes. Look me straight in the eyes and don't blink."

Harry gave the old man a weird look, but complied nevertheless. After all, it wouldn't do for him to anger his parents even more than they already were. A strange feel overcame him as he stared into the man's blue eyes. It...tingled.

It felt as if someone was raking their nails lightly against his mind. Obviously not the most pleasant of feelings. Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. He couldn't help but suspect that they man was trying to read his mind. A flicker of some emotion flashed across his mind - anger. He didn't want the man to read his thoughts. They belonged to _him_ alone and no one else.

Dumbledore quickly scoured through Harry's mind for any indication that the boy had listened in on their conversation. The boy's mind was peculiar in that his memories did not float about randomly as did most people. Instead, they descended in a steep spiral down towards his magical core. The headmaster carefully studied each memory in turn, before being his descent. Perhaps the memory was buried deeper?

'Leave,' thought Harry, desperately. 'Please leave already!'

A sudden jolt of magic caused him to jerk up in surprise. Dumbledore hesitantly sent out a tendril to touch one of Harry's memories and flinched as a jolt of unbounded magic hit him full on. Emotion magic, that is. The boy wanted him to leave, as his magic was subconsciously answering his prayers. Dumbledore flinched as another magical tendril hit him full on, compelling him to leave.

And leave he did.

There were other ways to ensure that the boy wouldn't recall anything that happened tonight. Though Dumbledore had to admit, he had never ever met a wizard whose innate magic was so powerful. He studied the woozy boy carefully. Perhaps Harry could be of some use to his brother in destroying Voldemort...

"Harry-child?" questioned Dumbledore, as he placed a hand to steady the boy. Surreptitiously he drew his wand, while giving both Lily and James a pointed look. "I am sorry Harry," he whispered softly, as he squeezed Harry's shoulder one last time.

"Obliviate"

Harry had a second to panic before the curse hit. The last thing he remembered seeing was his parents shocked faces and Dumbledore's guilty expression...and then darkness swallowed him whole. However, had Dumbledore been more observant, he might have realized that Harry's innate magic might have been able to protect him from the attack. That perhaps the spell had failed...

...or had it?

* * *

**2 months later: (Age 4)**

"'arry!' arry!" announced Nate with an innocent grin, as he saw his older brother enter the room. He raised his arms up for a hug, which Harry prompted gave. The younger boy looked completely different than Harry, though not so much that you couldn't see the resemblance between them. Nate had a head full of short messy dark auburn hair and warm chocolate brown eyes. On the other hand, Harry had a pair of brilliant emerald green eyes and messy black hair. Looks or no, the two of them stuck together like peas in a pod. They were best of friends.

"Good morning, Nate," said Harry returning the boy's smile. He reached over and mussed his brother hair, causing the younger boy to shriek in annoyance and laughter. Moving past Nate, he went over to the counter and snuck an apple into his pocket. Just in case, he was punished again. Harry's stomach growled pitifully as he stared hungrily at his brother's meal.

He hadn't eaten anything for days, as stated by his parents. Harry had accidentally set fire on a tablecloth with accidental magic, and his parents had been furious. H-He hadn't done it on purpose! Honest! It...just happened! However, all the same, his parents were adamant in their decision and he was sent to bed without food for around two or so days.

His eyes watered as he recalled their furious expression. W-Why did they hate him so?

"Harry, are you in here?" called Lily, as she entered the kitchen. Catching sight of her eldest son, she quickly motioned his over. "Good, there is something I need you to do."

Harry nodded quietly.

"I need you to..." Lily paused as she caught sight of Harry's emotionless face. "Oh for god's sake put a smile on your face, boy! I'm not asking you to do much!" she said crossly, before continuing, "...anyways, I need you to collect certain ingredients for a potion that I am making. I would do it myself but I have to take care of your brother! So could you collect a few Ashwinder eggs, knotgrass, and some murlap tentacles in the lake please?"

Harry's eyes widened at the list. "I...where do I find Ashwinder eggs?" he asked dumbly. Wasn't an Ashwinder some sort of snake?

"In the forest of course, stupid," she replied with a snort. Lily turned around and stared at Harry, "Well, aren't you going to get started?"

"Yes, but..." Harry hesitated. "...aren't Ashwinders dangerous?"

Lily snorted once again. "Only if you're foolish enough to get bitten," she sent Harry an exasperated look. "Look, don't worry about it. An Ashwinder's poison is not potent enough to kill. So get going already!"

Harry nodded and quickly scampered out of the room. The moment he was out of his mother's presence, a large fat tear trickled down his face. Harry wiped it away angrily, as he stomped out towards the forest. He wouldn't cry. He'd promised himself that months ago...

* * *

**Forest: (4 hours later)**

Harry sighed tiredly as he flopped back against a large tree trunk. His eyes subconsciously searched out the sun to check the time. From what he could see, the sun was high in the sky pronouncing that it was mid-afternoon. Sweat trickled down his face as Harry closed his eyes weakly.

It had taken a good three hours to find all the ingredients that his mother had wanted; however, the problem was...he still needed to find an Ashwinder nest. And not only that, but he needed to successfully remove the Ashwinder's eggs. He truly didn't know if that would be possible...but then again, if the snakes were anything like his parents. It shouldn't be too hard.

Harry's eyes darkened with pain at the realization. His parents truly didn't give a damn about him. He just wasn't _worth_ protecting. Such a realization hurt.

_/Stupid master/_ a voice grumbled, growing louder with each passing second. _/Why did he make me watch some stupid humans. They don't do anything...eat, sleep, bother us, and eat some more/._ A nearby bush rustled revealing a huge dark shape.

Harry gasped with surprise. The snake was beautiful!

The snake blinked as it tasted the air. _/Human? In the forest/_ it hissed with a hint of curiosity, as it slithered closer to the prone figure of the human child. _/It looks...delicious.../_

Now, well, it was those particular words that shocked Harry out of his stupor. _/Wait! Don't eat me/_ he hissed, not knowing that he was speaking in Parseltongue. _/I...I'm too skinny! You'd choke on my bones or something/_ Harry quickly backed against the tree, in an attempt to get away from the snake. He knew that it was stupid, but perhaps the snake would leave him alone. _/I don't want to die/_

The snake seemed to freeze the moment Harry spoke. _/You speak our tongue/_ it hissed curiously, as it flicked its tongue curiously at Harry. _/What is your name snake-child/_

This time, Harry managed to muster his bravery. /Why do you want to know, he demanded, crossing his arms childishly. _/If you're going to eat me, why does it matter/_

The snake hissed in amusement, before turning more serious. _/Such a fascinating child/_ it said curiously, _/You look like master did.../_ The snake circled around Harry, allowing the boy to stare in awe at her gleaming black scales. She preened at the attention, before deciding to answer the boy's pervious question. _/I am not going to eat you/_ she declared, _/You speak our tongue, snake-child. And for that alone, I shall not harm you though it is strange, my Master is the only snake-tongued in the world.../_

Harry looked puzzled at the snake, carefully examined the snake's tongue, and then checked his own. _/My tongue doesn't look like yours.../_ The boy tilted his head and eyed the snake curiously. _/I'm not a snake, silly.../_

The snake released an exasperated hiss, _/Of course your not a snake, you child./_ She flicked her tongue in annoyance, _/I meant that you are able to speak to me...in the serpent's language./_

_/Oh.../_ he exclaimed, looking slightly embarrassed. _"I'm sorry, I've never spoken to a snake before,"_ Harry insisted, loosing his fear. After all the snake _had _promised not to hurt him. After a moment of silence, he asked/Will I ever see you again/

The snake looking at the boy's expression of longing and pain, before it shook it's head. _/Of course child, you are a very fascinating creature...I wouldn't mind visiting you every once in awhile./_ Seeing that the boy had perked up at those words, the snake continued, _/If you don't mind me asking, but what is your name child? I cannot tell my master about you unless I know your name./_

Harry gave the snake a bright smile and exclaimed cheerfully, _"My name is Harry. What is yours?"_

_/My master calls me Nagini/_ she hissed quietly, _/I fear that he'd be quite fascinated by the likes of you, serpent child/_ Nagini looked towards Harry hesitantly, _/It is not often that we encounter one of our own...a Parseltongue...for it is a rare gift that is only bestowed to those of the Great Lord Slytherin's bloodline./_ The snake slithered closer to Harry, until they were only a few inches apart. _/It is strange that such a dark gift has been given to one of the heirs of the Light...especially a Potter at that./_

_/Who is Slytherin/_ asked Harry cautiously, _/I've heard Mommy and Daddy say bad things about that house. Something about how they are all evil.../_

Nagini tensed, as she bared her fangs with fury. _/Your parents...as well as most of the blasted wizarding world is prejudice against Slytherins just because they happen to be ambitious. Not all Death Eaters come from Slytherin; therefore, it is not fair for the entire world to blame everything that goes wrong upon them./ _The snake trashed her tail furiously against the ground, as if to make her point. _/Our Lord Salazar Slytherin was a good man...powerful, sly, and ambitious. He was probably the most talented out of the founders; however, Slytherin himself, was not match for the combined powers of the other three founders./_

Harry blinked in confusion, _/But...didn't Slytherin die thousands of years ago/_ he asked questioningly. _/How do you know what he was like/_

_/Foolish child/_ hissed Nagini, shaking her head back and forth. _/We, snakes have methods that by far surpass your human ways of preserving the past. As each of us die, our knowledge of our lifetime is passed down to our offspring; therefore, allowing them access to the knowledge and wisdom that can only be obtained through experiences and time. It is due to this, that we manage to survive for so long, regardless of the discrimination the blasted wizarding world shows us. Snakes are not evil...we are sly, and cunning...we are who we are...and nothing could change that./_

_/Okay/_ answered Harry truthfully. _/So far, you're the only snake I've ever met, and you're too nice to be evil/_ he stated, as he crossed his arms in conviction.

_/I'm not too...**nice**/_ hissed Nagini, who shuddered slightly. _/I'm cunning, and wise...not at all **nice**/_ she insisted forcefully, completely unaware of Harry's confused look.

_/Oh.../_

Nagini's head suddenly jerked up, and she turned back towards the edge of the forest. _/Little one, I have leave now. My master is calling...he requires my presence.../_ At that, the gigantic snake began slinking back towards the shadows of the forest.

Harry shook his head slightly. _/Nagini/_ he asked quietly, making Nagini halt in her departure. _/Thanks for coming...I'll miss you.../ _

_/You're welcome child...until we meet again..."_ With those words, Nagini disappeared into the shadows...back to her master.

With a lingering glance towards the shadows, Harry Potter stood up and dusted his robes carefully before walking back towards his home. His eyes fell sadly, as he heard shrieks of laughter and joy coming from within the house. Everyone was so happy without him...so loved... Harry raise his hand to wipe away a few traitorous tears that managed to trickle down his face; however, his hand halted in midair. His parents probably wouldn't even notice him...much less even see the tears.

He sighed once again.

He couldn't help but wonder whether or not he was going to get punished again. After all, he _had_ failed his mother by not getting the Ashwinder eggs. Harry's stomach growled pitifully.


	2. Gifts and Planning

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Gifts and Planning**

* * *

"Moony! Padfoot!" yelled Harry as he waved furiously towards the two dark shapes moving towards him. The moment the two of them passed through the Potter Mansion wards, Harry ran down the cheery hill towards the two unsuspecting visitors with his arms outstretched.

Sirus' head jerked up in surprise, as he saw a small black blur slam into him. Only to find out moments later, that the so called 'blur' was actually his godson...Harry. "Hey kiddo, how's it going?" he said cheerfully, as he returned the hug. The man didn't even wait for Harry to answer before beckoning him over conspicuously. "Hey Harry, has Prongs completed the final details for Nate's surprise party, yet?"

Harry looked down sadly, his sudden cheer disappearing instantly. "Yea," he said quietly. "Mommy and Daddy have been planning it for weeks. They said that it's going to be the best party ever..."

"Well, that's Prongs for ya! The old boy hasn't changed one bit!" he said with a chuckled, as he bent down and ruffled Harry's hair thoughtfully. Sirus paused slightly though, and then winced. "Oh crap, I haven't bought him a present yet, huh?" Then he began to pace, ignoring the amused looks that both Harry and Remus were shooting him. "Lets see now...umm...what would a normal four year old boy want?" Sirus pivoted around a moment too late, and then crashed headfirst into a nearby oak tree. As if nothing had happened, Sirus just shook it off. "Then again, Nate isn't exactly normal is he? After all, anyone destined to bring down Voldemort and become a beacon of hope for the light side, wouldn't at all be considered normal!" Sirus sighed dramatically, and flung his hands up in the air. "Now what in the world can I get him?"

Nate likes food and sweets a lot," he added shyly, as if uncertain if Sirus actually wanted his help. "He always complains about how mommy hides all the candy from him." Harry paused for a second, and tapped his finger against his chin thoughtfully. "But, mommy also said that sweets are BAD for us, and that our teeth would turn yellow and then begin to rot!"

Sirus rolled his eyes, and turned towards Harry. "Well, in that case, your mommy was wrong," he said sternly, as if he was a professor who was off giving a boring lecture. "I mean, when I was a kid, you wouldn't believe how much candy I ate! I mean, I don't think I could have survived without them!" His godfather then flashed a bright smile and pointed at his teeth. "Harry look, I mean my teeth aren't rotting! As of a matter of fact, I think the sweets made it look even brighter," he said conspicuously, sending a wink towards Remus who was currently eyeing Sirus with disapproval.

"Oh..."

His godfather clapped his hands in excitement and began heading towards the Potter Mansion, unknowingly leaving a sad Harry behind in his wake.

Harry sighed softly with disappointment, before he turned towards Remus. "Hey Moony," he said with a small smile upon his face. The young child carefully studied Remus, and then frowned. "Moony? Are you alright? You look ill," he said with a worried expression upon his face.

Remus nodded with a gentle smile lit across his face. "Don't worry cub," he said lovingly. "I'm fine...I've just been a bit worn out by one of my _monthly_ activities." Seeing Harry's puzzled frown, he continued, "I've just been under a lot of stress of late." Remus sighed dramatically, "It isn't easy being a werewolf when you've got both Voldemort and the Ministry breathing down our necks."

"But...I thought Voldemort was a BAD man," he said looking puzzled. "Daddy always told me that if I'm not good, Voldemort will come during the night and steal me away." Harry tilted his head in confusion, "Why would Voldemort care about you though Moony? You've haven't behaved badly lately have you?"

"No, cub...it's quite a difficult situation," replied Remus as he ran his hand through his sandy-gray hair. "I'm a werewolf," he said softly, as if that explained everything. "That in itself makes me nothing but a dark creature...a monster. Voldemort is after me, since he wishes to recruit all the werewolves, while on the other hand the Ministry seeks to destroy me."

Harry ran towards Remus and gave him a hug. "Don't worry Moony, I don't think you're evil," he said cheerfully, "I think you're the cutest, most fuzzy puppy/wolf in the world!" At that, Harry began dragging a bemused Moony up the hill towards the Potter Mansion. "Come on, I don't think Padfoot would be too happy if we kept him waiting!"

"Slow down Harry! I'm not as young as I once was!" stated Remus as he tried to calm the energetic boy down. "I seriously don't think I could keep up with you at such a pace!"

Harry eyed Remus out of the corner of his eyes. "But Moony...you're not that old!" he said sincerely, "I mean, I think you're still a bit younger than Mr. Dumbledore..."

Remus shook his head in disbelief as he followed Harry. "Trust me Harry, I'm way...way younger than Mr. Dumbledore. I mean, he's probably one of the oldest men alive today!"

"Oh...okay..." said Harry skeptically. Thankfully though, during their conversation, they've managed to reach the front doors of the mansion.

A head full of messy black hair, and round glasses suddenly flung the door open. "Moony! Long time no see!" he greeted cheerfully, as he and Remus exchanged hugs. (the manly kind of hugs P) "If I didn't know any better, I would have sworn that you were avoiding us!" said James good naturally. "It's been months since your last visit!"

Moony shook his head with a smile and said, "Prongs, you know that I wouldn't miss one of your 'family get-togethers' unless I had a good reason too! After all, you bunch are the family I have left..."

"Naw, don't be a fool Moony! I know a ton of people that care about you...even when you aren't a big, puffy wolf!" he said sincerely. James slammed his hand against the back and Remus's back and said, "Now, enough of the sentimental crap, we have a party to discuss!"

At that moment, James seemed to finally notice that Harry's presence. "Hey Harry! Aren't you excited about your brother's big day? I swear, it'd be the party ever!" he said, with a sly twinkle in his eyes, the exact same one that was present whenever he was planning a prank.

"Have you planned out the party yet, daddy?" asked Harry curiously, all the while ignoring the fact that his heart was clenching painfully. "What are we going to do?"

James pulled Harry closer to him, and subtly eyed his surrounds as if he was afraid someone was listening. "Alright kiddo, the rough outline is that we're planning on taking him to the Quidditch World Cup, first class and everything," he said brightly. "Nate has always loved Quidditch; however, due to the protection spells that Dumbledore layered on our house, it's nearly impossible to fly, much less even leave the proximity of the grounds." James rubbed his hands with glee, "I mean, sure it took some time to convince Dumbledore to let us go to the World Cup, but as it seems, everything worked out in the end."

"Oh...that's great, daddy! I'm sure it'd be so much fun!"

"Right," agreed James, as he nodded his head furiously. "Now that we've got that settled, Harry could you go run along and help your mother while I talk with Moony and Padfoot?"

Harry nodded his head quietly, and began to slip past the two adults until he felt a large hand stop him.

"Wait a second there Harry," exclaimed Remus, as he pulled out something from his worn out travel bag. "Happy Birthday, cub," he said warmly, as he handed Harry a brightly wrapped package. Remus's smile grew wider as he saw how Harry's eyes began watering with joy. "It's something that I came across during my travels...I hope that someday it'll become useful to you."

Harry instantly began tearing off the wrapping paper and ribbons, the moment Remus finished speaking. Underneath all the sheets, lay a phoenix encrusted pendent. The phoenix had emerald green eyes, regal grayish black feathers, as well as a pair of strong wings. In the background, flames were burning and twitching, as it danced...making numerous shadows against the phoenix. Above that, was a silver-blue circle that was encrusted sapphires and a few dark onyx stones. The pendent hung around a thick silver-gold chain.

"Thank you Moony!" he said sincerely, his eyes dancing with joy and excitement. "It's pretty!"

Moony looked down at Harry with amusement in his eyes. "Yes, that too; however, it also has a few magical properties," he stated, as if giving a lecture. "The pendent could protect you from most poison, as well as a few truth potions; in addition, it will also burn slightly if danger is nearby." Remus bent down and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Harry, I want you too promise me something," he continued when Harry nodded in agreement. "I want you to swear that you'll always wear it, and never ever take it off. As long as you do, it shall protect you...maybe even save your life."

"Okay Moony," said Harry, as he threw himself at Remus. "I promise!"

All the while, James had been looking at the scene with surprise. "Err...it's your birthday?" he asked pathetically, as he ran his fingers through his hair with an embarrassed smile upon his face.

* * *


	3. SerpentChild

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Serpent Child

* * *

**

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The first week of August flew by, and soon the carefully drawn-out birthday plan was soon put into effect. Before the dawn first broke out, a group of cloaked figures quietly sneaked out of the Potter Mansion. This notorious group consisted of one; James Potter, Sirus Black, Remus Lupin...and of course, Peter Pettigrew. Of course, their partner-in-crime, Lily was currently at home tearing through her cooking books, in an attempt to find a perfect breakfast recipe for her 'dear Nate'. Of course, after that, she was supposed to lead her two sons to the Quidditch Stadium, where the Maunders were currently planning their surprise.

Harry Potter, who had currently just turned six a week or so ago, was currently sleeping in bed...holding a large stuffed lion tightly. Said boy, woke up to the sounds of his mother's cheerful cries and Nate's grumpy laughter in the room next door. He sighed sadly, as he climbed out of his Gryffindor colored four-poster bed and stretched his arms. Moments later, the mother-son pair burst into his room.

"Harry...Harry!" cried Nate as he threw his arms around his older brother. "Look at what Mommy gave me!" he said proudly, as he held up necklace with a ruby encrusted Griffin roaring proudly at the center of the golden chain. However, unknown to both of the children, this necklace was actually a Portkey in disguise.

Harry smiled gently at his hyperactive younger brother and nodded in agreement. "Yea it is, isn't it?" The older boy hugged his brother back and shouted, "Happy Birthday Nate!"

Nate, with child-like innocence, smiled back brightly at his older brother.

All the while, Lily looked down lovingly at both of her sons, with joy dancing in her eyes. "Nate dear, I want you to promise me to take care of that amulet for me, okay?" she asked carefully, locking her emerald green eyes with her favorite son's chocolate brown eyes. "This amulet is special to our family," she explained when she saw Nate's curious expression. "It symbolizes the Potter crest, and has been passed down through your father's family for generations!"

"Really!"

Lily nodded fervently, "Normally it's given to the first-born child; however, in this case we made an exception. The amulet has protective properties," she said softly, "And with Voldemort after our hides, I thought it would be best if you were the one to receive it." She looked slightly guilty as she turned towards her eldest son. "Harry, you understand right?" she asked timidly. "Voldemort is mainly after Nate, and it's only reasonable for him to need the most protection."

"It's alright Mommy," Harry said with a sad smile, "I don't mind..."

At that moment, the two were interrupted by Nate's stomach growling with hunger. The younger boy ran his hand through his messy dark copper hair, and smiled in embarrassment. "Oopsie..."

Lily smiled as she noticed how much Nate was behaving just like his father. "Come on love, lets go get you some breakfast," she said lovingly as she held out her hand to lead her youngest out of the room. She turned towards Harry and motioned for him to follow.

Harry sighed once again, and trailed obediently after his mother and hyperactive brother. He didn't understand why his mommy and daddy didn't notice him. His fingers idly traced the phoenix amulet that his 'Uncle' Moony gave him for his birthday. Truthfully, he sometimes felt as if Moony was the only one in the entire world that cared about him. Harry bowed his head slightly as he recalled how his past two birthdays were spent. Ever since his parents found out about the prophecy, they seemed to have almost completely forgotten about him. Gone were the days when they would play games with him, sing to him...just...being with him...

He lost his train of thought as the aroma of pancakes and sausages greeted him. Harry stepped into the kitchen and automatically ducked as a syrup-soaked pancake was tossed through the air towards him. He scowled playfully at his younger brother, who stuck his tongue out in response.

"Harry! Look, the pancakes are flying!" giggled Nate as he flapped his arms like a bird. "I can do magic!" The younger boy continued tossing pancakes through the air, ignoring the annoyed expression that he was receiving from Harry, who was currently dripping with pancakes and drops of sticky syrup.

Lily returned with another plate of pancakes and placed it between Harry and Nate. She placed her hands on her hips and glared down gently the two boys. "Now you two..." she said in a motherly fashion. "You should know better then to play with your food!" She said, shaking her finger disapprovingly at them.

"But...I...we..."

"Harry dear," she said sternly, cutting off his retort. "You are a year older then Nate; therefore you should be more responsible!" Lily sighed and wrapped her arms around Harry. "Look Harry, we're already in enough trouble as it is. Since Nate is not old enough to think for himself, you'll have to help him...and protect him."

The older boy nodded with a glum expression. "I'll try my best Mommy," he promised, hoping against hope that when things got better, his parents would love him again. Harry looked down at his plate of pancakes, his appetite suddenly gone. His parents_ never_ listened to whatever he said anymore...

Harry toyed with his food as he watched his brother literally_ breathed_ in the plate of pancakes, before polishing off a few sausages and eggs. At that, Nate then chugged down a few cups of pumpkin juice. Harry shook his head in amusement, if there was anything his brother loved, it was eating...just like their 'Uncle' Padfoot.

When Nate finished eating, he leaned backwards against his chair and placed his hands over his stomach like a content child. "That was yummy..."

Lily gently pulled Nate to his feet and beckoned Harry towards them. "Now that you two are full," she said pointedly as she eyed Nate with a smile. "I have a surprise for you..."

Nate was literally dancing around the table with joy. "What is it mommy! Tell me!" he said excitedly as he wrapped his arms around his mum. "Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" he asked, giving his mum a perfect example of their father's 'puppy eyes.'

"Come on Nate...close your eyes and count to three," she said cheerfully, as she covered Nate's eyes. "Now Harry be a dear, and grab a hold of your brother's hand." When Lily was sure that everything was going according to plan, she started waited for Nate to give the activation words...

"...three...two...one..." shouted Nate, and suddenly the Potter kitchen was empty. The three magical folks, a mother and her two sons, had disappeared without a trace.

A volatile wind screamed through the darkened forest, as it tore apart and destroyed everything in it's path. The black oak trees, bent with age, stood stubbornly against the wild torrent. A canopy of heavy leaves covered the forest, leaving the grounds shadowed with darkness, regardless of the time of day. Exotic flowers and plants littered the forest grounds, as they festered from within the darkness itself. This very forest was well known by both the Muggles and Wizarding folk alike, for it was a place of fear and danger...a place where no sane person would dare enter. According to Muggle references, the forest considered an enigma, for no one...scientist, philosopher, whatsoever, could explain the sudden, mysterious disappearances that tend to occur the moment one sets foot in the forest. And as far as the wizarding folk have discovered, the forest was inhibited by evil creatures that wouldn't hesitate to feast upon human flesh...to put it simply, both of them avoided the forest like the plague itself.

Which is exactly why a largely splendid cave could be found within the heart of the forest, one that would seem to merely be a den to some abnormally gigantic dark creature. But unknown to the unsuspecting eye, this so called 'cave' was actually the entrance to a complicated, yet sophisticatedly decorated underground base owned by none other than the Dark Lord Voldemort himself. Within the depths of the cavern, lies many corridors and trick-staircases that eventually lead to the same destination...the throne room.

The room was covered with a masculine colored onyx stone that turns a slight shade of red when the light hits it at the right spot...but then again, it could have just been blood of their fallen comrades that was reflected. Beyond them stood and elegantly carved throne made out of the purest form of silver. There were two intricately identically carvings of two gigantic silver snakes that were wrapped around the arms of the chair with their heads entwined at the head of the seat. The snakes were carved so delicately, that you could even see the deadly glimmer in its emerald eyes, as well as the fatal gleam of its sharp fangs. Upon the seat sat a figure that was obscured by the shadows; however, the only thing visible, were a set of dangerous ruby red eyes that watched...yet revealed nothing.

_"Master..."_ hissed Nagini respectfully as slithered slowly towards the throne. _"The winds of fortune have changed...we are in luck, for I have just acquired some interesting...information...that may well change the tide of our war."_

Lord Voldemort's lips curled into a cruelly delightful half-smile._ "Tell me...my dear Nagini,"_ he hissed as he gently stroked Nagini's silky scales._ "What news do you bear, my cunning serpent?"_

Nagini paused for a moment, before answering in a proud tone._ "I was spying at the Potters' Mansion, my Lord, when I overheard some...fascinating news..."_ The serpent curled itself up around the base of the throne before continuing,_ "It is the prophecy child's birthday today...and his foolish Gryffindor parents plan on taking them to the Quidditch World Cup for a private party..."_

Voldemort's eyes narrowed with suspicion,'What about the old coot? Surly he would have...prevented...such an escapade?' The dark lord's frown deepen. 'What was Dumbledore playing at?'

Nagini remained silent as she watched her master ponder. She had met the dark lord more than fifty or so years ago, when the he had been no more than a young and uncertain child. She has fostered him...and befriended him, just like her ancestors had once told her to. It was esoteric knowledge that a serpent-child would eventually grow into one with almost absolute command in all the aspects magic. Nagini, had never once wavered in her decision...for her once 'snake-child' had never forgotten her kindness, and for that she was always treated with respect and never punished whatsoever. She was his friend...once...but humans change...

_"Nagini..."_ hissed Voldemort, shaking his serpent out of her train of thought._ "About the Potters..."_ he said looking directly into her eyes._ "We shall attack at dusk...so I suggest you get ready,"_ he said emotionlessly,_ "...for you will be joining me and my death eater's tonight...when we bathe in the glory of the Light's blood." _

_"Yes master,"_ replied Nagini quietly, before she began speaking with a slightly hesitation._ "I have also found something else..."_ she hissed softly, ignoring the annoyed glare she was receiving from the dark lord._ "There is another speaker in the world now..."_

Voldemort blinked in surprise. Whatever he had been waiting for, it definitely wasn't that._ "How can you be certain Nagini?"_ he asked with a slight bit of curiosity._ "Snakes are not that in tune with magic, for it is impossible for them to detect any 'gifts' that one would have."_

If anything, now it was Nagini's turn to get annoyed._ "I spoke to the serpent-child..."_ she hissed defensively,_ "He will grow up to be a strong and powerful wizard..."_ she paused for a moment, before finishing softly._ "Just like you..." _

_"Who is he?"_

Nagini hesitated for another moment, before answering in soft and gentle tones._ "His name...is Harry Potter..."

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_


	4. Slytherin Eyes

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 4: Slytherin Eyes

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**

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The sun shone brightly down upon a tall and imposing building made up marble and stone, also known as the World Cup Stadium. Young children were running about the grounds with good cheer and shrieking with delight, as the wind whistled in their ears. Their parents, on the other hand, watched over them with a fond smile and gave them each a friendly wave. At the moment, everything seemed to be going well, save for one individual - a young Harry Potter.

At the moment, our young Potter was currently strolling, naw...better said, he was being bumped and pushed from side to side, by a mob hasty shoppers and money-hungry salesmen. And for a five year old, this would obviously be a very distressing experience.

Harry sighed lightly as he unsuccessfully tried to weave through the crowd. Earlier that day, his mommy had brought Nate and him to the World Cup Stadium, much to Nate's utter delight. A light smile touched his lips as he remembered how happy his brother was, after all, despite everything, Harry still truly loved his brother with all his heart. And nothing would ever change that...

**_Flashback _**

_"Mommy," cried Nate as he latched onto Lily's arm, "Can we go shopping?" he demanded with a bright expression on his face. When he saw his mum's hesitant expression, he gave her his best puppy eyes look, "Pretty please?" _

_James saw Lily's obvious distress about denying Nate something, and spoke up, "Now look here my boy," he said warmly as he placed a hand on Nate's shoulder. "We're both really sorry that you can't go shopping," he said reluctantly. "It just isn't safe for you to go out there, even with our protection. It's just too risky..." _

_Nate didn't even blink, "But daddy, Harry will protect me like he always does," he said looking confused. "He's my bestest best friend! And I want to buy him a present!" declared Nate as he crossed his arms stubbornly. _

_"Now Nate, don't be unreasonable," said Lily as kneeled down so that she could see her son eye-to-eye. "I'm sure that Harry wouldn't want any presents at the moment. He already has enough as is. And not to mention, it is** your** birthday, not Harry's," she reasoned as she tilted her head in Harry's direction and gave him a meaningful look, "Right Harry?" _

_Harry bowed his head slightly in agreement, and turned to face his brother's inquisitive glance. "Really Nate, I'm fine. It's your party and I want you to have the best time in the world." He gave Nate a soft smile and hugged him, "Just forget about me and have fun alright?" _

_Nate nodded reluctantly, before returning back to his cheerfully energetic self. "Alright Harry, I promise!" _

_James's eyes suddenly widened as if he'd just been struck with an idea. "That's it!" he whispered to himself, as he ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Now, why didn't I think of that sooner!" he complained to himself, ignoring the curious glances that were being shot in his direction. _

_"Umm...Prongs?" asked Sirus timidly, "Are you sure you're alright? I mean, talking to yourself** is** the first sign of insanity..." He waved a hand in front of James's face with a concerned expression on his face. "Is anyone home?" _

_Lily playfully punched Sirus in the back of his head. "Of course he's alright, you big idiot!" she grumbled, "I swear, you're stupidity is going to rub off on my children!" she cried in mock horror. _

_"I'm not an idiot!" cried Sirus, as he waved his arms defensively about. _

_"Could've fooled me," muttered Peter Pettigrew, as he rubbed his beady black eyes with the back of his hand. According to the Potters, Peter who had previous been on a well needed vacation, had suddenly decided to drop by to visit for awhile just to visit his favorite 'nephew' Nate._

_Meanwhile, James lead Harry to a secluded corner and gave him a bundle of money and told him to go and buy one of everything off the carts for his brother. When he saw that Harry looked like a deer caught in headlights, he decided to explain it to him once again. _

_"But...Daddy, the party's about to start!" complained Harry, for the first time today. "I want to see Nate open my present!" _

_James waved Harry's concern aside. "Stop worrying Harry, trust me on this, everything will turn about fine!" Upon seeing Harry's dubious look, he continued on, "If it'll make you feel any better, I promise that we'll save your present for the very end alright?" _

_Harry nodded glumly, and proceeded to exist the Top Box, that is until a dark shadow block his path. "Uncle Moony? What are you doing?" he asked curiously when he saw that his 'Uncle' had no intention of leaving. _

_Remus placed both of his hands on Harry's shoulders and gently turned him around. Obviously, the werewolf had heard Harry's argument with his father and had decided to intervene. "Now James," he said quietly, his Lupin gold eyes locking with James's chocolate brown ones. "I'm sure that we could do the shopping after the party or during some other time." Remus paused for a second, and glanced towards Harry and felt slightly ashamed at how happy Harry was acting just because someone was standing up for him. It made him guilty...really guilty. _

_James's brow furrowed in confusion. "But Moony, Harry just said that he wouldn't mind helping. And besides, the less time that we spend here, the safer we'll all be," he said firmly. "Do try to understand Moony, with Voldemort out wrecking havoc nowadays, we really should be concerned about our safety. After all, Nate** is** the one from the prophecy,** and** obviously the one that Voldemort seeks to destroy. So we have to protect him regardless of the cost."_

_When Remus saw that Harry had hung his head in defeat, he tried once again. "Well, if you really want to purchase gifts for Nate right now, I could just go instead of Harry."_

_"Nonsense!" cried James as he clapped Remus on the back and gave a hearty chuckle. "Aw Moony, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought that you were trying to get away from us!" _

_Remus sighed in defeat, "Alright James, you win," he said in a tired voice. "You'd best get the preparations ready, after all, with Sirus there alone, things are bound to go askew." James nodded in agreement and rushed off towards the other room in order to 'save the party' from the clutches of an 'idiotic Sirus'. _

_"Uncle Moony?" called Harry, as he tugged on Remus's frayed dress robes. "Thanks for trying..." _

_Remus ruffled Harry's hair with loving affection, "Don't worry pup," he said soothingly, "Everything will turn out alright in the end...trust me on this pup." _

_"I hope so too Uncle Moony...I really do..." _

**_End of Flashback _**

Harry approached a crowded stand that was selling some weird kind of edible sweets. "Excuse me," he said in his politest tone, as he looked up to the salesman. "May I please buy one of everything **please**?" he asked, a bit desperately, only to be shoved aside by another customer who merely gave him a glare. The salesman wasn't as kind by half, since he thought that Harry was some sort of a pranksters. After all, who in there mind would send a child off alone to buy so much candy? "Scram kid, I have business to do here," he grumbled, as he made shooing motions with his hand.

At that, Harry quickly scrambled away from the angry glares that were being directed towards him. A sad frown appeared on his face, 'Why does everyone hate me?' as a sad sigh escaped his lips. 'Even Mommy and Daddy don't like me...'

After another few minutes of being pushed and shoved by the crowd, Harry had successfully managed to purchase a set of singing Quidditch robes, and a toy broomstick. 'I'll never return back on time,' thought Harry glumly as he walked off towards the furthest booth in the corner that was desolate of people that carried a few strange looking objects.

There were a few crystal balls that had fog shrouding it, as well as a few mirrors that showed shadowy figures that were running in the background. Completely entranced, Harry reached forwards to pick one up; however, he froze when he heard a deep voice coming from somewhere above him. Harry quickly pulled back his hand as if he had been burned and looked up towards the direction of the voice.

"Interested in Auror equipment, are you not boy?"

Harry nodded quickly in agreement, with an eager smile on his face. "Yup! Daddy and 'Uncle' Padfoot have a lot! They've shown it to me once!" he said brightly.

The man blinked in surprise, "Your father's an Auror, eh?" he asked, and accessed Harry as if seeing him in a new light. "What's your name boy?"

"Harry Potter," he replied automatically. He paused for a second, "Who are you?"

"Mungus (?) Fletcher's the name," replied Fletcher as he scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Now, I'm sure that a bright lad like yourself would want something useful, eh?" Harry opened his mouth to protest; however, he was successfully cut off by Fletcher. "Oh, do be silent for a moment boy, I have to think..." he said as he inhaled deeply on his pipe. "What would a lad like you want..."

Suddenly, Fletcher snapped his fingers. "That's it!" he cried as he rushed off towards his cart and pulled out a thick silky dark blue cloak with a silver lining. When Fletcher saw Harry's perplexed expression, he explained, "This is a top quality Auror invisibility cloak! It's multifunctional, since you could use is as a regular cloak when you don't need to become invisible." He beckoned Harry forward and said softly, "Don't tell you Father that I told you this, but...an invisibility cloak is great for sneaking in and out of the house, as well as successfully performing any kind of prank." Fletcher gave Harry a wink and said, "Use the cloak wisely, my lad. It's fairly expensive I tell ya. If you're planning on purchasing it, it would cost you a bit over a few hundred gallons."

"Oh..."

Suddenly, screams of pain and terror erupted from all around the stadium, as a mass of darkly cloaked figures with white masks Apparated onto the scene, and among them was a tall regally dressed figure with glowing red eyes.

**(Bare with me here, I know they have anti-Apparation wards, but in my story they were either broken, or just didn't work) **

"Bloody Hell..." whispered Fletcher, as he stared at the scene before him in trepidation. By Gods, everyone in the stadium was going to die, for few had ever survived a 'massacre' when Lord Voldemort himself was present. Fletcher quickly came to a decision and handed over the invisibility cloak to a bewildered Harry. "Boy, I want you to put that cloak on and run, by Gods, run like the wind," cried Fletcher as he rushed off into the crowd to battle off a few Death Eaters.

Harry stared at the cloak in his hands for a moment too long, for a stray Expelliarmus curse managed to hit him straight on. The last thing that he remembered has slamming his head against something hard, and then at that point, everything became a blur.

--$--

"Prongs! It's **him**! Tell Lily to take Nate and leave!" cried Sirus, as he exchanged a few curses with the Death Eaters below. "It's too dangerous for them to stay!" As he gestured meaningfully at a frightened Lily, who was holding shivering Nate.

James nodded in agreement and quickly shoved a Porkey into his wife's arms, and repeated the same process with Nate. "Take care," he whispered as he kiss Lilly on the lips and gave his son a goodbye hug.

"James..." whispered Lily, with a teary-eyed look. "Please...don't go this time, come back home with us. I can't explain it, but I've got this feeling, that something bad is going to happen..."

James shook his head in negation, "I'm sorry Lils, I have a responsibility here! I can't just desert them like this!" he cried, gesturing towards the battle that was happening below. "I'm an Auror, and I have to take responsibility for my actions! I just can't let innocent people die like this!"

They both winced slightly as they heard a blood-curling scream which was followed by peals of insane laughter. "James, we're not leaving without you..." said Lily stubbornly, "After all, if you could help out a few people, I don't understand why I can't do the same."

"Look Lils...I..."

At that moment, Lily grabbed onto both James's and Nate's hand and activated the Porkey. The last thing that Sirus heard was James's thunderous cursing.

"Padfoot, we have to find Harry!" cried Remus suddenly, as he peered down from the Top Box. "He's down** there** in the mess! He could get killed!" he said sounding distressed. And according to Padfoot and Prongs, they believed that Remus was absolutely terrifying when he was distressed. And to a werewolf, loosing his only cub was something that was** extremely** distressing. And at that moment, Remus fixed his eyes down into the mess, and just about ran with inhuman speed down the stairs with Sirus at his heels.

The two of them rushed past a stone corridor filled with magical glass windows that magnified everything so that you would have

"Moony, can you slow down for a second!" grumbled Sirus, as he unsuccessfully tried to quicken his pace. "Look, I care about Harry as much as you do, but we can't save him if we can't** find him**!" he said swiftly, knowing that Remus's logic would soon kick in. "Can't we just rest for a second a try to find him from the windows?

Without a word, Remus dragged Sirus over to the nearest window, as his eyes darted about frantically in search for the young child that he had grown so fond of.

Meanwhile, from below in the center of the stadium, Lord Voldemort himself, stood in the middle of the fray with his ruby red eyes glinting cruelly as he watched his Death Eaters make sport of Mudbloods. It was truly quite a sight, for there were people flying through the air without the aid of brooms while spinning like an abnormal human top, and others who were trying with all their might to escape outside...to get as far away from the ruby eyed monster and his minions as they could; however, much to their dismay, there was simply just too many people crowded in the stadium...which made it ultimately impossible for everyone to escape.

A malicious smile spread across his taunt and pale face as he watched Auror after Auror fall, as they fought gallantly to save everyone from their doom. Neverless, Voldemort himself, knew that it would be impossible for the Light to win this round in the game, for his Death Eaters simply outnumbered the Aurors and Order members by a ratio of 3 to 1.

Deadly flashes of light flew across the air, as they rained down by the hundreds and slammed into the unsuspecting Aurors and Order members, who were struck down...hopeless in their agony...

After another few minutes of torture and death, the stadium was silent. The floor was littered with dead bodies, whose life blood was dripping out slowly but surely. The Death Eaters had managed to successfully force the Aurors and Order to retreat, and had slaughtered all else that stood in their path; hence, the reason for the silence...for there was not another living soul in the stadium other then Lord Voldemort himself, and his trusted snake Nagini...

...or so they thought...

Suddenly, Voldemort hear a soft groan and a whimper coming from somewhere behind him, and turned abruptly only to see...nothing. An annoyed frown glanced over his face, as he eyed with dark glee.

_"Nagini...do you smell anything?"_

Nagini rose her head in a hypnotic fashion, and flickered her tongue and tasted the air. _"Yes...a young one...he is there...yet he is not..."_ she hissed in puzzlement as she looked towards the spot only to find that nothing was there.

Another groan was heard, as well as the rustles of fabric, when a dark head with messy black hair emerged from beneath a silvery cloak. The boy looked to be around four or five years old...and seemed to be extremely skinny for his age. The one feature that caught Voldemort's attention was the boy's eyes...those were Slytherin eyes...

Voldemort frowned. It was impossible though, he himself, was the only descendent of Salazar Slytherin...there was no one else...or was there? Once again, he carefully studied those eyes...they were the exact shade of emerald green with a hint of black and gold mixed in it when the light hit it at a specific angle. Yes...those eyes looked exactly like how his did before they had turned ruby red due to his obsession with dark magic...it was strange...

Neverless, emerald green eyes or no, the boy would eventually become extremely powerful, and seeing as how he hadn't seen the boy before today, he assumed that the boy was on the Light's side. Voldemort shrugged lightly, after all, it would be for the best to get rid of the child before it would pose a threat.

At that moment, Lord Voldemort raised his wand and swished it downwards towards the young boy, and froze suddenly when he met the boy's glaze. The curse died on his lips, as he saw the boy looking at him with eyes that were far older then they were suppose to be...with eyes that were empty of hate and anger...an innocent glaze. A child that could very well be family... Voldemort shook his head roughly, and ruthlessly suppressed his conscious, and hissed...

"AVADA KAVADA!"

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	5. Death and Beyond

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 5: Death and Beyond

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**

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**"Avada Kedavra"**

Remus Lupin stared down from the top of the pulpit with his face pressed against the window frame. His mouth dropped in horror as he saw an emerald green jet of light explode out of Voldemort's wand and shot off towards a slightly woozy young Harry Potter.

"HARRY...LOOK OUT" cried Remus as he pounded his fist against the window, which was unfortunately shatter resistant. He watched the curse fly towards Harry in slow motion, unknowingly, he tried with all his might to break the window...to try anything just in order to save his young cub. Remus growled furiously, as he felt a hand holding him back, and in retaliation, he fought on harder.

Remus eyes budged out, and his mouth dropped in a silent scream as he saw the jet green light slam in Harry, causing the young boy to topple backwards and out of sight. "No..." he whispered softly, as he stared at the scene with unbelieving eyes. "...he can't be..."

His cub couldn't be dead...he was too young...too innocent. "Harry" he screamed, as he pounded his fists furiously against the window hoping against hope that Harry was still alive...and could hear him; however, the only thing that Remus managed to do was to cause the window to shatter...which unfortunately caught Voldemort's attention.

Voldemort's ruby red eyes suddenly focused upon the two brightly clad figures that were standing near the upper windows, and a cruel smile spread across his face. The Dark Lord casually lifted his wand, and shot a dark sickly yellow curse towards the two unsuspecting wizards, causing them to duck quickly behind a stone wall.

"Moony, we have to get out of here..." cried Sirus, as he quickly turned towards the window and shot a curse at Voldemort, before he quickly ducked behind the wall once again.

"NO...Harry..."

Sirus shook his head sadly"I'm sorry Moony...but he's dead" he whispered, looking down at the sole of his boots. "He's dead..." he said once again, but this time with more conviction. "We have to get out...NOW" he yelled, as the ceiling began to shake and fall. With those words, Sirus quickly shoved a Porkey into Remus's trembling hands, and just in time, the two wizards disappeared right before the ceiling collapsed.

-

_"Master"_ hissed Nagini, as she slithered up towards Voldemort. _ "Are they dead"_

Voldemort tilted his head slightly in agreement, and reached down to stroke Nagini's scaly head, _"Yes, my sweet..."_ he hissed back softly. _"Those fools should be dead by now."_ With a slightly bitter smirk, he added,_ "After all...every one of those fools who dares challenge my rule shall die...and die horribly." _

Nagini was silent for a moment before she asked hesitantly, _"Master? There is pain in your scent...are you hurt"_

Voldemort stopped stroking Nagini and remained silent, as his ruby red eyes stared emptily at the ceiling. _"No Nagini...I am fine"_ he replied with an odd note in his voice._ "I'm...fine..."_

The snake flickered her tongue in sympathy. After all, after spending about a few decades with a person...you'd learn to tell when they're lying or...when they're just...well...confused. And to put it simply, Nagini could easily tell that her master was a little of both.

Nagini dipped her head in agreement, as she began slithering away from her Master in order to hunt for a mid-afternoon snack. However, much to her surprise and Voldemort's, she accidentally slithered across something...or someone...who was...**alive!**

_"Master"_ she hissed urgently, using her tail to beckon her master over. Nagini carefully dipped her head down and pushed against the soft silky fabric that she was one. And to her great surprise, she found**_ him_** beneath it...her 'snake-child.'_"The boy...the Potter child...he's still alive" _

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise before darkening with suspicion. _ "That's impossible"_ he hissed angrily, causing Nagini to back up slightly in fear. Seeing that he was starting to scare even his most trust serpent, Voldemort tried to lower his voice. _"I hit the boy with an Avada Kedavra And **NO ONE** has **ever** survived the curse" _

If it was possible, Voldemort would have sworn that Nagini's beady black eyes had widened in shock. _"But...Master...the boy, he is also a speaker" _ she explained quietly, as she tried to shake off Voldemort's glare.

_"What do you mean he's a speaker"_ hissed Voldemort, as his eyes narrowed dangerously. _"The boy is obviously from the Potter linage, it would have been **impossible** for him to possess such a gift."_

Nagini hesitated for a moment, before continuing in a soft wispy hiss,_ "Master...a few weeks ago, I met the child while I was spying on the Potter mansion..."_ The serpent paused for a moment to evaluate Voldemort's expression, before hissing softly,_ "He was a good child...a lonely child just like you...Master. The boy was neglected...hurt...and ignored by his parents, since he was deemed 'unworthy'..."_

_"Enough with the melodrama, Nagini"_ hissed Voldemort, as he waved his hand dismissively._ "The boy is a Potter...an enemy...and his childhood is no of my concern..."_

There a momentary pause, before Nagini asked in a gentle, slightly sad hiss,_ "Are you sure"_

Voldemort opened his mouth to release a bitter retort; however, the words died at his lips when he saw the young child move slightly before opening his eyes.

Young Harry groaned in pain as he rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead which was bleeding profusely. His eyes watered slightly in pain, but he refused to cry...

_"Boy..."_ hissed a menacing voice, that was moving closer and closer towards him. _"Tell me...how did you survive the curse" _

Harry blinked his eyes furiously in order to get rid of his tears, and his eyes focused upon a dark-haired man with extremely pale skin and ruby red eyes. _"Who are you" _he asked curiously, as he tilted his head in confusions. _"I don't think I've met you before..." _

In reply, Voldemort just blinked in surprise. 'Never heard of him? By God, how stupid was the boy?' The Dark Lord was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of joyous hissing and cheers.

_"Nagini"_ hissed Harry happily, as he wrapped his arms tightly against the large serpent._ "I've missed you so much!_" he cried, as his emerald green eyes sparkled with cheer._ "Where have you been for the past few weeks"_ he asked sadly,_ "I thought some mean person had hurt you..."_

Nagini flicked her tongue lovingly at Harry,_ "Don't worry my serpent-child, no one would ever dream of hurting me."_ Nagini glanced over at Voldemort and saw his flabbergasted expression and decided to help him out for once._ "Look at me my serpent-child"_ commanded Nagini, as she waited patiently to gain Harry's attention. _"I want to introduce someone to you...my master...Lord Voldemort..."_

_-_

_-_

_-

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_


	6. The Offer

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 6: The Offer

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**

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**-**

"Bloody hell Lils! You know **_damn well_** that it is my job as an Auror to help protect the innocents!" snapped James, as he flung his arms up in frustration. "You shouldn't have whisked me away from there when I was needed!"

"Your son needed you," retorted Lily as she crossed her arms stubbornly. Upon seeing James' scowl of annoyance, her emerald green eyes flared in anger. "For heavens sake James, can't you grow up for once? Things are different for us now - since we have Nate and Harry. You cannot just simply go gallivanting off to fight Death Eaters and Voldemort like you and Sirus used to. You have a responsibility now, and it'd do you well to remember that," she finished, with a matching scowl on her face.

"I do," he growled as he accidentally crushed the piece of parchment that he had in his fist. "You know that I would and will always put Nate's safety above anyone else's, but this topic isn't relevant! I made sure that you and Nate were both whisked off safely away from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but you shouldn't have made me leave! This is** war** Lils," whispered James softly as his chocolate brown eyes darkened with sadness, "...and the risk will always be there - the danger; however, we don't have much of a choice. We, the Light, are all that stand between Voldemort and world domination..."

Lily's eyes softened and she wrapped her arms around James. "I know," she whispered softly in his ear, as she felt his arms snake around her waist and held her protectively. "...but sometimes I just wish that we weren't so directly involved," she said with a gentle smile, "I'm just so worried...about the prophecy...about Nate...you know?"

James sighed knowingly, "Yes...poor Nate, it must be tough for him to have the fate of the world on his shoulders." He bowed his head sadly, "Sometimes though, I wonder whether or not we'd be able to help him in the end - in his battle against the snake bastard."

A smile tugged at the corners of Lily's lips, "Regardless though, he has the blood of the Lion running through his veins, and that should be enough...if not so, to provide a challenge for Voldemort."

"Yes...we can obviously expect 'great things' from him, eh?"

At that moment the fire flared darkly in warning that two people had entered the house premise and were slowly making their way up the stairs towards Lily and James' sitting room. James frowned slightly and instantly drew his wand and went over to the fireplace.

A few months ago, the Potters had installed a new magical identifying device that was similar to the Marauder's Map, for it showed a detailed outline of the entire Potter grounds and five miles of the surrounding forest. Upon it were dots that showed each and every person's location and name, which was toned to identify their intentions upon entering the house. And this so called system was called "The Plot of the Misfits," which was named and honored by the one and only Sirus Black, and strangely enough, could be accessed in nearly ever fireplace in the mansion.

James eyes widened in delight as he noted the two blinking blue dots that symbolized his two best friends - Padfoot and Moony; however, his smile disappeared slightly as he glanced over at their** status bar** and noticed that they were both weak and in shock.

At that moment, the door burst open as Sirus and Remus entered the room, or to rephrase that, Remus who has leaning heavily against Sirus' arm, had to be carried in.

"Moony...Padfoot...are you alright?" asked James, as he stood up to help his two exhausted friends down into a squishy red couch. The Sirus shot him a look that just screamed, '_What do** you** think?_'

"James...he's gone...he's dead..." whispered Remus, as his Lupin gold eyes were fixed emptily upon a crack in the wall. "...by gods...he's dead..." Sirus patted Remus on the back and gave him a supportive look.

"Who's dead!"

Sirus shook his head sadly, and ignored James' question. "It's alright Moony...it'll...everything will turn out right...in the end..." lied Sirus, as his voice grew hoarser and hoarser with every word that came out of his mouth. The man closed his eyes in pain, before opening them slowly. "Bloody Hell, he shouldn't have died...he was only a child..." he whispered softly. "Damn you Voldemort! DAMN YOU TO HELL!" he screamed out suddenly, as he slammed his fist against the wall.

James' brows furrowed in confusion. 'Dead? Who in the hell was dead?' However, before James could articulate a question, Lily intervened.

"Sirus? Remus?" asked Lily quietly, as she walked up to them and gave them both a supportive hug. "Here, I want you both to drink some of this Calming Drought - you're both in shock." Numbly, both of the men nodded, and Lily was forced to help both of their hold the bottle to their lips since their hands were shaking so badly. After a few moments, Lily was satisfied to see that both Remus and Sirus had long stopped trembling; however, the scary thing was that there was still a empty glint in Remus's eyes and Sirius's usually tan face was as pale as a ghost. "Sirus? What happened?"

"Harry...he...was right down there in the fray when Voldemort and his Death Eaters appeared," said Sirus, as he leaned back tiredly into the sofa. "He didn't stand a chance..."

Lily covered her mouth in horror as her eyes darkened in anguish. "No...no...not Harry...no...he couldn't be..." she said softly, as her voice trailed off. "...he just can't..."

"I'm...I'm sorry Lily..." said Sirus, as a single tear rolled down his face. "We weren't fast enough...we...we just couldn't save him..."

James had his face buried in his hands as he shook his head violently from side to side. "He can't be dead...it's impossible!" he snapped, as he jumped off the sofa and began pacing. "No...I refuse to believe it! It has to be a lie...a prank..." he said looking desperately at Sirus and Remus; however, whatever hope he had died instantly when he saw their serious and dead expressions. "God..."

"Tell us what happened," insisted Lily as she sat down next to James and wrapped her around around her husband once again, before fixing her tear-bright green eyes on Sirus. "Tell us...everything..." And of course, in a soft voice, Sirus began.

Meanwhile, while Sirus was retelling the tale, Remus sat there...stunned and lost. Harry, his favorite cub, the child that was always left out...always neglected...the child that he thought of as a son...was...

...dead...

Remus closed his eyes in pain, and a flash of green light flared across his mind, as he saw through the deadly curse fly once again towards Harry...and his boy...his cub...fall...

-flashback-

"Aww...isn't he the sweetest thing ever!" cried the nurse, as she handed over a newborn child with emerald green eyes with a few tuffs of jet black hair to Lily who was lying in bed watching her baby with warm green eyes.

"Yes, he is," said Lily sternly, as she reached out to hold her firstborn. The boy blinked innocently up at Lily, and gurgled, causing the entire room of people to laugh. Lily smiled and waved back at her son, and began rocking him gentling in her arms. "There's a good boy..." she said fondly, as she tried to smoothen the tuff of hair only to give up moments later.

"He's just like you, isn't he Prongs?" joked Sirus, as he punched James lightly in the shoulder. "The little tyke will soon need glasses, since only heaven knows how blind you Potters are!"

"Hey! That's my son you're talking about!" cried James indigently, as he turned around to give Sirus a piece of his mind. While the two of them were arguing, Remus slowly moved closer to Lily and peered curiously down upon the newborn babe.

"Hi there..." whispered Remus softly, as he reached out a finger to tap Harry's forehead lightly. "My name's Remus and you'll going to be my nephew, kiddo! I promise I'll always take care of you...always..." In response, Harry's tiny hands grabbed onto Moony's large finger and held on tightly, before the young child gave him a slobbery smile.

-End of Flashback-

Remus's expression softened as he recalled Harry's innocent glaze and every cheerful smile. Everything had been so great...so perfect...and Voldemort had to destroy everything for them. His eyes glazed slightly, as another memory assaulted his mind, causing him to bite his lips in pain.

-New Flashback-

"Ready or not, here I come!" cried Remus, as he stormed into the hedged maze to look for Harry. "Oh Harry...come out, come out where ever you are!" he yelled brightly, and a gentle smile tugged at his lips when he heard Harry's answering giggles and shrieks of laughter.

Remus sniffed the air, and slowly turned around the corner of the maze only to see a small red blur streaking across the edge of his vision.

"You're so slow, 'Uncle Moony!" teased Harry, as he stuck out his tongue playfully at his Uncle, before he made his escape through as small hole between the base of the hedge - just managing in the nick of time to escape from his Uncle's grasp.

"If that's how you want to play it, cub. Prepare yourself for the worst!" exclaimed Remus, as he readied himself for another grueling round of hide-and-seek.

-End of Flashback-

Remus was jostled out of his thoughts when his ears caught the soft sound of feet pattering against tiles, and he lifted his head only to meet Nate's curious brown eyes...eyes that were so similar to Harry's - innocent, carefree...yet they were so different, for they lacked the darkness...and the hurt that was almost always omnipresent in Harry's eyes.

"Mommy...Daddy?" asked Nate, as his bottom lip began to tremble slightly. "Where is Harry?"

-

-

_"I want to introduce someone to you...my master...Lord Voldemort..." _

Harry's eyes narrowed in confusion. "_Lord Voldemort?_" he repeated curiously, unaware of the fact that the Dark Lord was currently staring at him with a slightly disgusted expression. Harry rubbed his hand surreptitiously against his forehead, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw blood seeping down from his forehead. Due to his proclivity to get into nasty accidents, Harry learned from a young age that cuts, and bruises should be mended instantly so that they wouldn't scar or hurt as much...

Seeing as how there weren't any adults around to ask for help except the ruby-eyed man, Harry walked up to the man and gently tugged on the man's robes. "Excuse me, Mr. Voldemort, sir?" he asked as politely as he could, as he cocked his head up to look into the man's eyes. "Can you, heal it for me, please?"

Voldemort scowled fiercely at the young child who was holding his robes, and tugged it out of the boy's grip. The brat stared back calmly with those strangely bright emerald eyes, and looked at him not with **fear** - but damn it, with** curiosity**. At that particular moment, the Dark Lord spat out a few cuss words in Parseltongue, only to remember that the brat could understand every word that he was saying. Voldemort shot a glare towards Nagini who was sniggering in the background, and was watching the scene unfold with a unholy glint of amusement in her serpentine eyes. And at that moment, the Dark Lord wanted nothing more then to Crucio one of his Death Eaters - preferable Pettigrew, the bloody rat.

Harry's smile dropped slightly, when he saw that the man hadn't even moved a muscle. Maybe the red-eyed man didn't like him either...and wanted nothing more then to leave. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Mr. Voldemort" he whispered sadly, as he turned away from the red-eyed man. "I'll go away now..."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed slightly, as he reached out a hand and caught the boy's shoulder and turned him around. "Listen to me brat," he hissed menacingly, "No one, not even you shall turn you back to me unless I dismiss you, understand?"

Harry just blinked and a small smile graced his lips. "You mean you don't want me to leave?" he asked looking slightly shocked. His mommy and daddy never wanted him around...

The Dark Lord just glared, "Don't you understand English, boy? I told you to stay put."

"Okay..."

Voldemort looked surprised at Harry's willingness, before he quickly covered it up with a fierce scowl. "Tell me now brat, why you haven't heard of my name before?" he asked suddenly. "You are a Potter, one of the fools that revel in the Light. Your parents should have taught you to hate me...brainwashed you to fight...to die as nothing more then a weapon."

"Oh..." said Harry, as his eyes widened in realization, ignoring Voldemort's previous words. "Now I remember! Mommy and Daddy did tell me about you once!" he said as his voice turned sad. "Was I_ bad_ today?" he asked suddenly, as he turned large watery green eyes on Voldemort, who looked startled at the change of subject.

Harry lifted his hand and wiped away a stray tear, before sniffling softly. "Mommy and Daddy said that if I was bad, Voldemort would take me away..." he said sadly, as he bowed his head in pain. "I'm sorry..."

_"Shhh...there, there snake-child,"_ hissed Nagini as she wrapped herself around the now trembling boy, who was in response hugged her close against him._ "I'm sure that everything will turn out alright..."_

Harry shook his head before turning towards Nagini,_ "But...but...mommy and daddy don't want me anymore. I...didn't mean to be 'bad,"_ he said sadly,_ "I...I don't even know what I did..." _

Voldemort sighed loudly, and once again cursed the stupidity of the Potters, all forty-five generations worth of them. The Dark Lord frowned slightly, as his mind began whirling frantically. The boy, no...better said, the brat, was obviously going to be quite special, for he managed to do the impossible and survive and Avada Kedavra curse straight on. Not to mention the fact that the boy could very well be a relative of his...his eyes lowered down to look at the Potter brat, no...make that a** very** distant relative. Yes...the Potter brat would definitively be more useful alive then dead..."

_"Look at me brat,"_ hissed Voldemort in Parseltongue, and two pairs of eyes instantly focused upon him._ "You know just as well as I do that your parents do not care for you,"_ he said trying to soften his voice, which only served to make it sound harsher._ "They were here earlier at the stadium; however, they did not care about you...only that golden brother of yours was their concern."_ Voldemort's lips thinned out to an unpleasant smile, before he continued,_ "After all, those fools left you here...to die..."_

Harry eyes widened before he shook his head in denial._ "Mommy and Daddy wouldn't do that to me!"_ he protested, as he crossed his arms stubbornly._ "They...they care about me..."_

Voldemort's smile grew._ "Then tell me brat, where did you 'Mommy and Daddy' run off to now?"_ he asked snidely,_ "After all, it's only you and me in the stadium right now..."_

_"I..."_

_"That's right brat,"_ whispered Voldemort malevolently,_ "They never cared about you...never..."_ The Dark Lord took in the boy's horrified expression and slowly tearing eyes, before he decided to take his plan to the next step._ "But I, on the other hand, am willing to take you in...to give you a place where you can call...home."_

At those words Harry looked up slightly, as another tear trickled down his cheeks. The child had a hard time believing the Dark Lord's words about his parents; however, he couldn't deny the fact that there was truth in what he was saying._ "You'd...you would do that for me?"_ asked Harry looking puzzled._ "But...why?"_

Voldemort took a deep breath, as his ruby red eyes met Harry's emerald green ones...Slytherin eyes._ "That is none of your concern. boy,"_ he hissed harshly, as he abruptly tore his glaze away.

_"...but..."_

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed dangerously. _"But what?"_ he snapped, as angry sparks shot out of his wand. _"Let me guess, you don't want to leave your** precious** 'mommy' and 'daddy,' correct?"_ Voldemort leaned closer towards Harry and bent down so their face were inches apart,_ "Even after everything that I have offered you,"_ he hissed softly,_ "...you** dare** refuse my offer?"_

Harry's lips trembled for a moment, as he glazed at the Dark Lord with watery green eyes._ "I...I'm sorry..."_ he replied, as his voice trembled with sadness. _"I would love to go live with you, Mr. Voldemort, but...I..."_ Harry took a deep breath before continuing, his voice a soft whisper, _"I don't want to be a burden..."_

There was a moment of silence, before Nagini decided to step in. _ "Snake-child?"_ she hissed, as she flicked her tongue lovingly at Harry's cheek. _"Don't worry, you will never be a burden. We will be honored to have you stay with us..."_

_"Really!" _

Nagini nodded her head furiously, and hissed back,_ "You have my word, snake-child..."_

Voldemort's lips curled slightly in disgust, as he watched the scene from a distance. The bloody brat was going to be the death of him. Even though there was a chance that the boy had Slytherin blood running through his veins...chances were that the blood would be too diluted for the boy to be an heir. The Dark Lord glanced over at the boy once again and grimaced. The boy acted so Gryffindor it made him sick. Voldemort mentally sighed, before he mustered up the courage to spin a few more lies to convince that simpering fool of a boy.

_"Brat?"_ asked Voldemort in a neutral tone, as he waited impatiently to regain the boy's attention,_ "You need not worry about such trivialities, brat. Do you **think** I would make such an offer if I couldn't pay for your upkeep?"_ he finished, his voice tinged with annoyance.

Harry blinked slightly, _"I wasn't talking about money..."_ he replied softly,_ "...people don't seem to like me. They...usually avoid me as if I've got some sort of a disease."_

Something flickered across Voldemort's eyes at those words._ "I told you before, brat, that I will offer you a home. And I mean it..." _

Harry's eyes brightened with joy, and a faint smile appeared on his face._ "Thank you, Mr. Voldemort!"_ cried Harry, as he ran up to the darkly clad man and gave him a warm hug._ "You're the nicest person I've ever met!"_ he said, as he wrapped his arms tighter around the Dark Lord, who was looking extremely shocked. Harry paused for a moment, before asking hesitantly,_ "Since I'll be living with you..."_

_"May I call you...father?" _

-

-

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	7. Midnight Dream

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 7: Midnight Dream

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Beyond the darkly lit cave that glowed a mysteriously silvery ebony light, was a majestic chamber made from the purest of minerals - gold, silver, diamonds, and gems sparkled about the floor - sparkling dangerously beneath the waning light. The echoes of screams rang about the corridors as one's life blood dripped, ever so slowly, across the jewels - once again, tinting their luminous light with blood. This chamber itself, was the place where nightmares were born - where they festered and grew...a place where neither man nor beast dared enter...

...that is...unless there was a calling for the dead, the humble followers who have slaved themselves to accomplish their master's dream,** their** dream - one of purity and powerA calling...that will come...**tonight. **

Upon a tall, regal throne sat a lone figure dressed in a pair of velvety black robes with silver trimmings and a dark pair of dragon-hide boots. The man was extremely pale, with a head of long silky black hair, and demonic red eyes that were omnipresent...always seeing...**always.** There was nothing in the word that one could hide from those blood-crazed eyes, for they were always watching from the shadows, like a snake waiting for the right moment to strike.

This man, was none other than the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

The Dark Lord's gaunt features twisted into a frown as his thoughts drifted towards the young boy who was currently residing in the guest wing of his cave/ mansion. The bloody boy - a** Potter** of all things - had somehow managed to dig his way into his skin. Truth be told, he simply had no idea whether Potter was a child genius or just simply insane; he was leaning towards the latter. The brat had the audacity not only to grab a fist-full of his robes and** tug** on them, of all things, and may the Gods be dammed, the brat had**_ hugged_** him!

Had anyone else dared do such a thing, the unlucky person would have instantly been shot down with a quick Avada Kedavra. Bloody hell, the boy had shocked him so much all that he could do was stare. **No one** in his life had ever hugged him, nor shown him any sign of emotion other then respect, greed or disgust. Voldemort twisted his snake ring about as he contemplated the boy's motives. It was such a marvelous play, such acting, in** that** the boy was a true Slytherin. It was quite delightfully done, the hugs, the emotions - truth be told, he himself would he hard pressed to find out whether or not the boy was being genuine or not.

As for not getting killed, the boy had the shock factor by his side, not to mention a bit of Nagini's support as well. 'Yes...the boy would become great someday.' Voldemort's eyes narrowed slightly in disgust, 'that is...' he corrected himself mentally, '...if the brat manages to keep him bloody emotions to himself, he would eventually become a great asset in this war.'

The Potter boy was simply an enigma - a startling simple mix between a Gryffindor forced into a Slytherin mindset. Innocent, yet sly to a fault. The Dark Lord leaned back against his throne. As far as he was concerned, the brat was going to be more trouble then he was worth...

The sounds of popping echoed about the chamber indicating the arrival of Voldemort's Inner Circle. Seven tall men and women donned from head to toe with thick black robes and ghostly white masks appeared from out of thin air and before turning about to bow down reverently to their master. The Dark Lord inclined his head slightly and waited patiently for each of his followers to climb up the steps to his throne and kiss his robes. The Death Eaters filed up in line one-by-one to greet their master, before returning back down the steps - awaiting their Lord's further instructions.

"Death Eaters," he hissed softly, as he made a move to stand up. "We have accomplished much over this past week have we not?" Ruby red eyes swept across the shivering line of Death Eaters as a cruel smile bloomed across his face. "Lucius," said Voldemort, as his dark smile grew when he saw the blonde flinch slightly at being singled out. "How are the plans proceeding with Azkaban?"

Lucius Malfoy, a tall aristocratic man with a head of pale blonde hair and cold gray eyes, tilted his head reverently towards the Dark Lord before he began to speak. "My Lord," he said in a smooth velvety voice, "Our forces have been growing exponentially over the past few months," he stated paused for an effect. "Unless I stand to be corrected, our forces will become strong enough to crush the Light's side with ease and capture Azkaban." The blonde man's eyes glinted slyly, "And my Lord, our troops recent...ah...improvements can be credited by none other than yourself. Soon, we shall be powerful enough to cleanse the world of this mud-blood filth."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously. "**_Soon?_**" he hissed angrily, causing Malfoy's face to pale with fear. "Are you insinuation, my dear Malfoy, that **my** troops are not strong enough to match _Dumbledore's _ right now?" he said in a deceptively pleasant tone, which caused most of the Death Eaters present to tremble.

"No...I..."

"Or are you suggesting that I, myself am...dare I say, weak?"

Lucius's face had turned the exact same shade as his mask, and his smoky gray eyes was wide open in fear. "My...my Lord," stuttered Lucius as he tried to regain his composure. "It is a well known fact that you are the strongest wizard in the world - and** no one**, not even that Muggle-loving fool Dumbledore can even...compete with you. My Lord...you have no equal in this world, for you hold in the very palms of your hand the power of destruction...a power that knows no boundaries." Malfoy swallowed before continuing, "I offer you my deepest apologies for speaking out of turn, my Lord. As for your Death Eater army, I can assure you that they are an extremely powerful lot and can very likely destroy the old fool easily."

The Dark Lord fingered his wand, as he glanced down at the trembling blond. "Eloquently stated like usual, Lucius," he said harshly, as his demonic eyes focused intently down upon his victim. "...but, sometimes I wonder, exactly how true your words actually are." Malfoy bit his lips nervously and managed to draw blood. "Yes...a sly one you are, but can you back up your words?" challenged Voldemort as he twirled his wand about lazily.

The elder Malfoy's pale face flushed slightly as the insult hit home. "Of course, my Lord," replied the blonde, though his words were dripping with wounded arrogance. "After all, I sincerely doubt there is anyone that is more committed to your cause then my family. Rest assured, we, Malfoys will never betray you."

Voldemort's lips curled into a thoughtful sneer, as his thoughts drifted off towards the young Potter brat. "Yes...your _family_," he sneered, fully aware that Lucius had taken a step back in fear. A faint image of the emerald eyed brat flickered across Voldemort's mind as the child's god-forsaken words echoed about his ears, 'May I call you...father?'

Bloody hell, the Potter brat was starting to get on his nerves even though he wasn't even present!

The Dark Lord pushed away all thoughts about young Potter, and focused his attention towards a shaking Malfoy. It was fairly obvious that the man was scared, even though Malfoy was obviously trying his best to conceal it behind a blank and polite expression.

"My family, my Lord?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed slightly before he spoke, "Am I to assume that you speak for your entire family, Lucius?" The dark lord paused for a moment to allow those words to sink in as his attention focused upon all his Death Eaters, "On what evidence do you have to base their loyalties upon?"

The room went dead silent, as all of the Death Eaters stared quietly at the floor hoping dearly that their Lord wouldn't notice their presence.

Lucius Malfoy took a deep shaky breath before stating in a cool and precise tone. "My Lord...my family and I have supported and bowed to your power for years..." he said before trailing off slowly. "My son, Draco, for example is most eager to join your ranks and can hardly wait until he becomes of age."

Voldemort elegantly dipped his head in agreement. "Fair enough," he said softly, "Only time will prove the depth of your loyalty." At those cryptic words, Lucius bent down to kiss his master's robes, before quietly edging his way back down the stairs towards the other Death Eaters.

"By the way, Lucius. See to it that you do not overestimate you nor your family's worth," hissed Voldemort as his ruby red eyes gleamed with malevolent joy, and pointed his wand towards the blonde, "Crucio."

x

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(The Next Morning)

Albus Dumbledore, the head of the Order of Phoenix, and the unofficial leader of the Light side, was smiling jovially as he flooed into Potter Mansion to speak with the Maunders about their new mission for the Order. Out of all the people in the Order, the Potters and co. were pretty much not only the most entertaining, but also the smartest and most...uh...creative individuals on their side. Truth be told, Dumbledore was actually quite close with the family and was almost like a doting grandfather whenever he visited - which was rarely ever.

The headmaster frowned slightly upon entering the elegantly decorated reception room. He couldn't place his finger on it, but something was wrong and...different about the place. The magic levels were completely messed up...

Though rarely anyone in the world knew, Albus Dumbledore possessed the gift of **empathy.** This particular skill allowed the sneaky headmaster to do a surface scan on one's emotions and soul...(I'll go more in depth as the story goes on).

Dumbledore mentally flinched as the magical and emotional vibes that were present within the room bombarded his mind. There was so much negative emotions within the room, for it was filled with such unbelievable pain...anger...and disgust - an emotion that he'd never seen nor felt before within the cheerful compound of the Potter Mansion, save for when he was around young Harry. The boy always had an air of sadness around him, yet such purity, to the headmaster the boy's emotions felt more like a cleansing rain then a dark storm. Yes, the older Potter child was obviously quite different from his indefinitely cheerfully younger brother - Nate, the prophesied hero of their world.

With a sense of dread, Dumbledore slowly made his way across a towering hallway filled with magical photographs of the previous Potters and their families who tried to engage him in a conversation, which the headmaster politely declined as he conspicuously sped up. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a lingering taste of bitterness in his mouth almost as if he'd swallowed a bag full of scrumptious lemon drops. The older man was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard a heartbreaking cry emerge from the room to his left...

Dumbledore glanced over towards the intricately carved oak doors whose gems glittered welcomingly. Without an ounce of hesitation, the old man's wrinkled hand reached out towards the ivory carved handle and pushed it open. Like a flickering flame in the wind, the omnipresent twinkle that usually sparkled in Dumbledore's ocean blue eyes died upon seeing the small, huddled figure that was lying absentmindedly against the windowsill.

The boy looked ill...sickly even, Dumbledore noted as his eyes swept over Nate's thin shivering frame. Truth be told, he couldn't remember a time when the young Nate looked so...hopeless, and lost. The old man shook his head sadly, as he felt a twinge of pity for the lad. 'Nate was only three years old, and the poor lad already had a prophecy hanging over his head - not to mention, a prophecy that Voldemort himself knew. When the time came, young Nate will have to lead the Light into battle against Voldemort...but for now', the headmaster shook his head sadly, 'it would be best for the boy to enjoy his childhood while he could.' Dumbledore blinked slightly as his eyes focused upon the silvery drops that were cascading down from the boy's chocolate brown eyes.

'Tears? Nate...was crying...'

The headmaster slowly made his way up to boy, taking slow and steady steps towards Nate, as if not to alarm the lad. "Nate?" he called out quietly, as he stopped a foot away from the weeping boy. When the boy didn't respond, Dumbledore slowly reached down and placed a comforting hand upon the young boy's shaking shoulders. And truth be told, the headmaster was sufficiently shocked when young Nate flinched away from him and turned away.

"Nate, my boy, what is wrong?" whispered Dumbledore more to himself, than anything else, for as it so seemed, the boy didn't seem to notice his presence. The headmaster reached down and gently tried to shake the boy out of his stupor; however, this time, Dumbledore managed to get a reaction out of the unusually depressed child.

"Leave me alone!" cried Nate as he flung Dumbledore's hand away as if it was something poisonous and quickly scooted away from the now bewildered man and buried his tear-streaked face in his own little arms.

At that moment, Dumbledore's magical senses sharpened as it felt two emotional figures approaching them, and in a blink of an eye, his wand was in his hand and pointed straight into the startled face of James Potter.

"Albus?" asked James as he rubbed his eyes blurrily, "What are you doing here so early?" However, before the headmaster had even opened his mouth to reply, James had caught sight of the trembling Nate and something akin to regret flashed across his face. "Lily, could you look after him for a second while I talk to Albus?"

Without needing to be told twice, Lily nodded quietly, before she ran up towards Nate and wrapped her arms around her son and whispered comforting words in the child's ear. To put it simply, Nate look...well, traumatized; however, you truly couldn't blame the lad, after all Nate had just discovered that his brother was DEAD. And with the mentality of a three-year old, Nate was refusing to accept anything whatsoever that came out of his parents' mouths.

James went over and gave his son a supportive hug before ruffling his hair lovingly. "Don't worry Nate," he said hoarsely, and had to clear his throat many times before he could force out the next few words. "...everything will be fine," he stated, as his eyes met Nate's, "...trust me on this, Nate, I promise you that in time you will..._forget_, and things will be alright again." Seeing that Nate was shaking his head in denial, James sighed softly before getting up and motioning Dumbledore to follow him into another room.

The headmaster nodded solemnly as he tore his glaze from the young child, and onto the tired features of James Potter. The man's usually messy mop of hair was even worse than usual, and his chocolate brown eyes which usually sparkled with devilish glee was cold and empty. James looked tired...defeated...and even worse, dead. It was quite obvious that some calamity had befallen the entire Potter family - after all, it wasn't every day that you would see the lively family become so downtrodden and hopeless.

The younger man led Dumbledore to a beautifully decorated drawing room that was carefully adorned with statues of their previous ancestors who were actually quite famous in the magical world. At that, James abruptly strolled across the length of the room, making sure to wipe his boots clean on the rug in order to not annoy Lily before collapsing onto a scarlet velvet armchair and motioned for Albus to do the same.

There was a moment of silence as James stared down at his feet with an empty and lost glaze while ignoring Dumbledore's worried eyes. "James? What's wrong?" he asked softly, and flinched slightly in shock when James' eyes flared with anger.

"_What's wrong_?" repeated James, as he stared at Dumbledore with a unknown glint in his eyes, as he leaned forward so that his face was only a few inches away from the headmaster. "I'll tell you what's _wrong_," he practically spat, "My son...the one you swore to protect from harm..."

"...is dead."

There was a long moment of silence before Dumbledore managed to regain his composure. "I beg your pardon?" he stuttered out, as his aquamarine eyes darkened with confusion. "Do explain yourself, Mr. Potter," he said sternly, as he met James' accusing glare. "Unless I am mistaken, your son isn't dead..." he said pausing for a moment, "Only a matter of minutes ago, you were comforting the lad."

James' face turned a nasty shade of red and his normally cheerful chocolate brown eyes were shinning with emotion. "No...Nate is fine," he said slowly, as he tried to reign in his temper, "However, _Harry_ isn't."

At those words Dumbledore's face turned ashen before dilating until he looked as pale as a ghost. The older man buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths, all the while, James was glaring angrily. Truth be told, the headmaster was quite fond of Harry...maybe even more so than Nate. He couldn't explain it, but there was just something about Harry that set him apart...something that made truly trust and care about the poor lad. And yet, despite everything there was a war going on and Dumbledore need all the allies that he could get and the best way was to gain their respect and trust when they were young. Which was exactly the reason why he paid more attention to Nate, the Prophecy Child, instead of his brother. And at this very moment, he felt his heart twinge slightly with regret...

"How did he die?"

At those words, all of James' anger melted away from his face and was replaced with tiredness. James sighed sadly, as he slumped back dejectedly against his armchair. And at that, James took a deep breath and retold Sirus' account of the story to a stony faced headmaster.

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Lily cradled the sobbing form of her youngest boy in her arms as she whispered soothing words in his ear; however, as it so seemed, nothing managed to stop the torrent of tears that cascaded down her poor boy's cheeks. Lily buried her face in Nate's hair as a single crystal teardrop dripped down her face.

'Harry...'

Her son...the loving, wonderful boy that was always there for her when she need help, or comfort. A boy, that she had never once acknowledged since Nate's birth and the discovery of the Prophecy. Her heart tightened in pain as images began assaulting her mind - memories, oh bloody horrible memories of the past, of the mother that she had once been...

And now, after this revelation...it would be impossible for her to rectify it. Harry, her precious son was dead...and she, had forgotten about him and had left him there in the stadium...

...she had left him there to _**die**._

Lily was jolted out of her thoughts as she heard Nate's distressed cries. Acting out of instinct, she pulled Nate closer against her and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Shhh..." she said soothingly, as she pushed away a stray lock away from Nate's face. "Everything will be alright," when Lily saw Nate once again shake his head in denial, she decided to comfort him the only way she knew how. "Nate darling, trust me on this, alright? Harry is gone now," she said gently, as she tried to stop her voice from cracking. "He's gone to a better place...a place where he will be loved and be taken care of." Lily, paused slowly as her voice got hoarser with emotion. "He...Harry will be happy there. Don't you want your brother to be happy, Nate?"

Nate nodded instantly, but his eyes were still red from crying. "But...but...when can I see him again?" he asked sadly, as his chocolate brown eyes focused upon Lily. "I...miss him."

Lily shook her head sadly and forced herself to ignore Nate's question. "I can't answer that sweetie," she said gently, "We can only hope that we will sometime during the future..." Nate's lip trembled again, and Lily's eyes widened slightly as an idea hit her. "Nate? Darling, I've got an idea. Harry has always loved you, and I know a way for you to remember him forever...for him to always be there with you..."

Lily dug through her pockets and picked out a messily wrapped present which was from none other than Harry. "This is Harry's present for you," she said holding the gift as if it was a treasure. "He told me that he found it when he was in the forest and that it was something...special..."

The young child nodded and reached out and slowly took the present away from his mother, and with an sad sniffled he began opening the gift while keeping in mind to put the wrapping paper aside. And reached down and pulled out a...

...flower seed?

Nate cocked his head in confusion as he turned to face his mother. "Mummy? What is this?"

The redhead bent down to get a better look at the seed, and gasped in surprise. After a moment of shocked silence, Lily turned towards Nate and said slowly, "Darling, this seed is special," she said softly, as her eyes were transfixed upon the round object. "If you raise it with love and gentleness it will eventually grow into a beautiful silver flowered bush." Lily licked her lips nervously, "I don't know how Harry found it, but it is one of the rarest of its kind. This seed is known as the 'Midnight Dream,' and in its current state it can only be used in powerful potions; however, over the next few year...given that you take care of it..." Lily trailed off slightly as her eyes unfocused.

"What Mummy?"

"...It will grant you one wish and fulfill your heart's desire."

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	8. Innocent Promise

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 8: Innocent Promise

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**

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It was around noontime, when young Harry awoke. The sunbeams were shining down rather brightly through the window onto the boy's innocent face, causing said boy to burry his head beneath his sheets; however, for some reason things didn't seem to work out correctly since Harry had somehow managed to get himself tangled within the blankets. After struggling for a few minutes, Harry fell down and landed in a heap on the ground.

"Ouchie..." groaned Harry as he rubbed his sore buttocks surreptitiously before staring about blurrily. His eyes darted about in a confused fashion before he narrowed his eyes and squinted. (A/N: His vision isn't** that** bad yet since he's only a kid).

Dark velvety blues and greens...

Merlin, from what he could see, the entire room was a sea of blues and greens with hints of silver and ebony lining. Truth be told, it was...well, a tad weird...at least for Harry at any rate. His original room at Potter Mansion was decked with bold Gryffindor colors and quite a few other..._unique_ colors...that were personally selected by none other than the infamous Sirus Black himself. His old room was cheerful...bold...and a bit on the flashy side, but then again, so was every other room in the Potter Mansion.

Therefore, it was fairly understandable for young Harry to be wearing a dumbstruck expression when he finally got a good look at his surrounding._ 'Dark..._' The entire room's presence felt strange, sad, and well...completely different from anything he'd ever experienced. Truth be told, it felt almost like as if he was in another world - one that was dark, mysterious, yet...lonely.

His emerald green eyes brightened with curiosity as they reexamined the room - this time, with more care.

To his far left stood a set of heavily locked trunks with sinister-looking runes drawn upon it, with was set up a slightly old looking green tapestry with delicate gold and silver trimmings falling daintily down against the ebony tiled floor. Above that, was an enchanted window that looks out over the forest (the cave is half underground) with dark blue curtains blowing slightly against the breeze. And beyond that was a small sitting room that was equipped with a darkly polished fireplace that had emerald green fire dancing about. A few comfortable black armchairs were scattered about the perimeter of the room with a medium sized coffee table in the center. To put it simply, the room was stunning...

Harry stood up as he stared about the room in awe. It was absolutely beautiful, nevertheless there was something about it that made Harry hesitate...something just wasn't right...

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A dark black snake slithered silently through the din of the corridor, as it hissed menacingly and bared its fangs at any unlucky death eater who dared to cross her path. Her scales shone like liquid silver and her gray eyes flared cruelly beneath the light of the torches, making her seem like a creature of the night...a creature of destruction and death...

At the moment, said snake was not in the mood to converse. Her red-eyed master had just awoken her from her mid-afternoon slumber and had sent her off to fetch the boy. Her master had vaguely mentioned something along the lines of, "Teaching stupid, insane Gryffindor brats their place." Neverless, none of that mattered. Of all things in the world that Nagini hated, being forced to do something before nighttime was probably high up on the list. And right now, she wanted nothing better then to fetch the boy and go back to magically heated rock and bask until the sun set.

But, that wouldn't happen. Unless she was mistaken, her snake-child was going to ask a lot of long questions and waste time. As far as she was concerned, humans were stupid...

Hence, the reason for her dark hisses and violent slithers. If it was possible for a snake could throw a temper tantrum, Nagini would have obviously done so. After all, these violent deadly glares of hers were quite disconcerting and often reminded Death Eaters of their master.

And now, seeing as how she was going to have to deal with her extremely emotional snake-child, she needed to somehow reign in that awful temper of hers...

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"NaNaNa...Ya can't catch me!" yelled Harry as he sped away from Nagini as quickly as his two pudgy legs would carry him. With a teasing smile, young Harry turned around a stuck his tongue out at Nagini.

_"Stupid brat..."_ grumbled Nagini, while muttering a few colorful words beneath her breath. Sure, Nagini was probably one of the largest snakes in the world, save for that arrogant, **_lazy_ **Basilisk who did nothing more then sleep half the time. Sure, she enjoyed hunting prey, but of all things that she had to agree to, she couldn't help but ask herself,_ why_ she did so.

Seeing as how she wanted nothing more then to sleep, Nagini had told Harry to hurry up. And do you know what that damn brat did? He tapped her lightly on the nose, and yelled,_ "Tag, you're it!"_ before running away. Nagini had just stared dumbly at his retreating form before she regained her senses.

The cave was extremely large and had quite a few dangerous beasts and deadly traps here and there. To put it simply, the cave was extremely well guarded...so much that the Death Eaters themselves rarely strayed away from the throne room. After all, they _**were**_ Slytherins and did have a healthy sense of self-preservation.

Had it been anyone else, Nagini would have gladly left them to their fate; however, this was her snake-child... Seeing as such, you could probably put two and two together and figure out exactly Nagini was slithering quickly after the boy.

_"Snake-child!"_ hissed Nagini angrily, as she paused a few second to draw a breath._ "I order to stop right this INSTANT!"_ she ordered, as she glared at the back of Harry's head.

Said boy, did not hear her.

_"**Snake-child!**"_

_"What is going on here?"_ hissed a slightly annoyed voice which was coming from directly behind Nagini. Surely enough, seeing as how Voldemort's voice was a nuance louder than Nagini's, Harry stopped abruptly and quickly turned around.

_"Master,"_ hissed Nagini respectfully, as she dipped her head slightly in a bow._ "The snake-child and I were getting ready to met with you in the throne room."_ Her eyes darted hesitantly over towards Harry, before she continued speaking,_ "The child wanted to go exploring...and...he got lost..."_

Voldemort's eyes darkened slightly._ "Nagini...what did I tell you about lying to me?"_ he asked silkily, as he leaned in closer towards her._ "You, of all people should...remember...exactly how much I hate people like that old fool who speaks of nothing more then riddles and lies."_

_"Master...I..."_

_"After all, Nagini. You were there with me...back then..."_ hissed Voldemort, as his voice grew softer by the second. Harry strained his ears and barely caught the last few words._ "...when the old fool, destroyed my life." _

Harry blinked. 'Destroyed his life?' But, Voldemort was still alive...

Nagini lowered her eyes in shame._ "Forgive me master,"_ she hissed sadly._ "I did not mean to make you...remember..."_

There was a moment of silence, before Harry's childish voice cut through the tension._ "Do you want some tea...father?"_ he asked tentative, as his bright emerald green eyes focused on the dark lord to gauge his reaction. The last time, he'd called the dark lord that, Voldemort just stared at him for a long time, as if trying to figure the reasoning behind_ why_ a young child like himself, would actually _want_ someone like Voldemort as a fatherly figure.

Those blood red eyes were scary.

Neverless, the dark man didn't seem to hate him or anything. And seeing as such, Harry being the neglected child that he was, believed that Voldemort was his chance of having a_ 'normal'_ family for once. One that would love him and accept him for who he is.

When he was younger, he had often dreamed that his Uncle Remus would come one night and take him away...but, it had never happened. His lovable uncle was always...'sick'...and rarely visited. It hurt.

_"Tea?"_

However, now, he finally had a chance. Even though the his new 'adopted father' was _a bit_ on the creepy side, it was better than nothing. Harry pushed away his thoughts and smiled brightly at the ruby-eyed man. _"My mummy, use to make it for us when we were sad,"_ he explained.

And for some reason, both the snake and her master stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head. But then again, it wasn't every day that a five year old child cheerfully offered to make tea for a Dark Lord.

There was a long moment of silence, before Voldemort cleared his throat loudly._ "Brat, I have a proposition for you,"_ he stated calmly, ignoring the boy's previous words and endearment. The Potter brat was starting to get all sentimental on him...and it was absolutely disgusting.

Harry blinked innocently. _"What is a proposition?"_

Nagini answered quickly, when she noticed her master's quickly increasing annoyance._ "A proposition is like a deal...a promise, as you humans put it." _

_"Oh..."_

_"Brat, seeing as how you are going to be living in my home for the next few years..."_ Voldemort inwardly grimaced at the thought of a disgustingly Gryffindor child running about._ "You will...own me a, dare I say, dept of some sort."_

The bloody brat nodded in affirmation._ "Okay! I'll do anything to help." _

Voldemort's lips twisted into a dark smile. The Potter boy was a fool, and a stupid fool to boost. He would bet his life, that the brat had no idea what he had just agreed to...nor feel the leftover magic that was floating about.

_"See to it that you remember your promise, boy,"_ he hissed quietly to the boy, causing the Potter child to raise his brows curiously._ "It would not do for one...like yourself, to break a...promise." _

Young Harry tilted his head up, and proudly crossed his little arms over his chest and drew himself up to his full height - a mere 3 foot 2 in._ "You can count on me!"_ he said cheerfully.

The Dark Lord's lips twitched even more, whether in amusement or in satisfaction. Nagini suspected the former.

_"Very well, Brat, see that you do."_ he said slowly, before his ruby red eyes met Harry's emerald ones._ "However, right now we have a more dire task at hand..."_

_"...you need a new identity." _

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	9. Heirs

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 9: Heirs

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**

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**3 Years Later**

A slender young lad strolled casually about the forest grounds. Said lad was quite unremarkable at first, and second glance. Unless that is, you decided to count the large black snake, who was following at the boy almost like an obsessive mother. The lad was around 8 years old, and had a mop of straight black hair which was tussled due to the wind. His skin was a healthy shade of apricot, due to the boy's tendency to explore the great outdoors - aka. the dark forest - which ultimately made him more knowledgeable about secret paths and tunnels that were located in said forest, than his father Lord Voldemort himself. Nevertheless, the most fascinating feature of the boy's was his golden eyes which changed colors depending upon his mood. This boy was none other than Harry Potter himself, also known as Alex Nigel Mortimer.

Alex lowered in his eyes in embarrassment as he recalled exactly_ how_ he got he received his full name. (Just to make things easier, I'm going to refer to Harry as Alex from now on.)

**flashback**

But...but _why?_

Voldemort rubbed his temples in frustration. "Brat, it is during times like this that make me question your sanity."

"But...I _like_ that name!"

"**NO.**"

"It's cool though!" said Harry with a pout. "I've always wanted to name my goldfish that!"

"Your _goldfish_? This is going to be** your** name, you insane brat," growled Voldemort through clenched teeth. The older man's fingers were twitching sporadically almost as if he longed to grab his wand and hex the damn brat. Luckily for Harry, Voldemort had give his wand to Nagini, who was patiently waiting outside, _just in case_. After all, it would do him no good if he killed off the boy so soon.

"But...I think Bob is a great name! I mean 'Bob' the goldfish has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"NO."

"But..."

Voldemort dug his nails into his throne and took a few deep breaths. "Alright brat, I'm only going to stay this once. Understood?" his ruby red eyes glared towards Harry, as if daring the lad to argue. The boy nodded. "Since you do not seem capable of selecting your own name," he paused to sneer, "It seems as if I'll be picking it for you."

The brat opened his mouth probably to retort; however, Voldemort quickly shot him a dark look.

"How about Alex Mortimer?"

End Flashback

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Alex sighed as he once again mentally thanked his father for his insight. After all, the name _Bob_ Mortimer just seemed plainly wrong. After shaking himself from his stupor, Alex blinked slightly when he realized that he'd already arrived at the Apparation point. It was quite strange that he'd arrived _here_ of all places.

As his father had stated with a light sneer, the only people who could actually use or even_ find_ the Apparation point had to carry the Dark Mark. And Alex himself thankfully, did not have that luxury. When he'd asked Voldemort exactly whyhe could see said point without the Mark, his father stared at him for quite some time, before mumbling something about Alex's bloodline.

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**A Month ago, Flashback-**

"Father?" asked Alex quietly, as he stepped into his father's private study. "Do you have a minute?"

Voldemort rolled his eyes, "Would it stop you?" he said grumpily, before setting down the Death Eater reports that he was reading.

Alex's lips twisted into a smile as he plopped himself down into the elegant emerald green armchair in from of his father. Over the past two or so years, his father had finally learned to tolerate his presence and vice versa. Truth be told, Alex even suspected that the Dark Lord even found him quite amusing at times. And Alex, truth be told, was also quite fond of his adoptive ruby-eyed father.

"Well?"

Alex chewed his lips nervously. "Umm...I was thinking the other day about what you said when we first met."

Voldemort raised his eyebrows. "What about it, brat?"

There was a long silence, as Alex tried to gather his thoughts. "You never told me_ why_ you allowed me to stay," he blurted out after a few minutes.

Silence, dead silence echoed about the study. Time seemed to freeze as Voldemort stared at Harry with an indecipherable expression upon his face.

Alex nervously met his father's calculating glance, and swallowed hard. "I never really did thank you," he said slowly. "I suppose I was a bit too shallow at the time."

Voldemort stifled a snort. "Shallow and _obnoxious_," he added, as the corners of his lips twitched slightly.

Alex pouted, but kept silent as he waited for his father to answer.

The Dark Lord leaned back against his chair as he studied the brat with hooded eyes. The boy, 'Alex' was becoming quite powerful under his tutelage. So far, the boy, a mere 7 year old, had already progressed to the level of 5th year material for most of his classes; however, his strongest point was dueling. For some strange reason, the brat mentally soaked up spells like a sponge. It didn't take more than a few days to weeks, depending upon the level of the spell, for Alex to master it. Despite this ability, the brat still had problems controlling quite a few Dark spells. As far as Voldemort was concerned, the boy still wasn't emotionally-mature enough to handle performing the Dark Arts; hence, Alex was forced to stick to learning Dark theory until he ready.

It truly didn't surprise him that Alex had already realized that he had an alter motive when he had offered the boy a home. The brat was smart, though a bit dim-witted at times. Voldemort blamed the later on the Gryffindor blood that was flowing through the boy's veins.

"Haven't you ever wondered_ why_ I gave you the surname of Mortimer before, brat?"

Alex blinked at the sudden, unexpected question. "No," he answered dumbly, however when he saw the displeased expression on his father's face, he elaborated, "I just thought that it was a random name or something."

Voldemort's eyes rolled heavenward, as he mumbled a few colorful words about 'stupid, idiotic brats.'

"The noble house of Mortimer carries the line of the snake, Slytherin blood," stated Voldemort, after a few minutes of silence. "It was the house that my mother was born to."

Alex edged closer towards his father with a curious expression. In all of the past two years that he'd known Voldemort, he had never once heard his father mention anything about his family.

"My mother was a noble pureblood, the last and only legitimate heir to the entire Mortimer family," he said as his lips curled into a disdainful sneer, "However, being the Mudblood loving fool that she was, my mother dismissed her heritage and married a_ Muggle_," he spat.

Alex's eyes softened with something akin to sympathy and understanding.

Voldemort closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to control his temper. "At her deathbed, I was marked as the heir of the Mortimer family fortune; however, due to the_ Muggle filth's_ blood that run's in my veins I was not allowed to obtain any magical inheritance from the family," he said coldly, as his ruby red eyes flashed dangerously. "However, Slytherin's blood ran true in my veins - more so then any other member in my family history, and regardless of the Mortimer inheritance, I became the Slytherin's heir."

"Oh...but how does that have anything to do with me?" asked Alex with a puzzled expression upon his face. "I'm no heir."

Voldemort's lips twisted into a nasty smile as he leaned closer to Alex. "There, my boy is where you are all wrong," he hissed, mentally enjoying the dumbstruck expression upon Alex's face. "You through your father's line inherit the blood of the Lion - Gryffindor blood, and through your mother's line you inherit the blood of the Snake - both from the Mortimer family and the Slytherin family."

"WHAT!"

"Your father's ancestors married into the Gryffindor line during the 3000 B.C. However, the Gryffindor girl that your Potter ancestor married, was an illegitimate bastard," said Voldemort, his ruby red eyes glinting with suppressed mirth as he watched Alex turn pale. "Her blood was pure as can be, nevertheless the rest of the Potter clan hated her for tainting their line with her 'foul' blood."

Voldemort smirked to himself, when he saw Alex bury his face in his arms and groan in misery. "Your mother on the other hand came from a line of disowned squibs who carry the Mortimer bloodline," he said in clipped tones. "From what I have found, you mother - Lily Potter - was the first magical witch that emerged from the squib line of the Mortimer. Due to this, she carries the Slytherin bloodline; however, since she is female she did not receive any of the family traits save for her Slytherin eyes." Voldemort turned towards Alex, "Everyone from the Mortimer and Slytherin bloodline had those eyes," he finished looking pointedly at Alex's eyes. "So in other words, we're closely related."

"But...if we're related, why did you try to kill me off when we first met?" demanded Alex, as he crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. "I mean, wouldn't it be cool to have a living relative?"

Ruby red eyes once again rolled heavenward. "Brat, do you have _any_ common sense at all?" he grumbled, "I've just discovered the truth about your heritage around a year or so ago."

"Oh."

Voldemort reveled in the silence, as the brat contemplated his next question. However, there was no doubt that the boy was going to_ now_ ask why the curse failed. Stupid curious brat.

So before Alex had even opened his mouth, Voldemort lifted his wand slightly in warning to remind the boy to remain silent. Thankfully, the boy did.

"Brat, I seriously doubt that you would know the family traditions of the Mortimer clan, so stay silent and listen," Voldemort commanded. "You, undoubtedly are now wondering how you survived the curse." Alex nodded eagerly. "There is no other explanation then the one I will give you now."

"The Mortimer clan was a famed and glorious clan for thousands of generations; however, one of our ancestors - Septimus Mortimer - cast a blood-binding spell upon every member of the clan. The exact incantation of the curse has been lost through time; however, it's magic can still be used to this very day. The spell's purpose was to guarantee the survival of the clan. The clan's single heir at the moment can not kill another member of the Mortimer clan until, said heir designates another family member as his own heir." Voldemort paused to sneer lightly, "And seeing as how I did not have an heir...nor did I know that you were a family member, when I cast the Killing curse upon you I marked you as my heir."

"YOU WHAT!"

**End Flashback-**

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Alex sighed loudly. Even to this day, he_ still_ had a hard time accepting the fact that he was the heir of two of the founders The entire idea seemed preposterous! He wasn't that strong...well, at least not_ that_ much.

With a grumpy expression on his face, Alex turned his back to the Apparation point and decided to hike a bit further than usual into the forest. There was nothing better, in his opinion, then a good walk through the forest.

Before Alex had even moved an inch, a sickening green light flashed, and without wasting a second Alex instant dove under a large rock near the side of a cave.

_"Show yourself, Mudblood..." _

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	10. Death Eaters

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

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**Chapter 10: Death Eaters

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**

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Alex's golden eyes narrowed as he silently muttered a quick Disillusionment Charm and taped himself on the head with his wand. He mentally winced in disgust when he felt something akin to an egg trickling down from his head. As much as he hated this particular spell, he really had no other choice right now. A soft crunch of pebbles to his right made him turn his head sharply towards the noise - his chewed his lip nervously. 

_Death Eaters_

There was a whole group of them, around thirteen or so of them. From what he could remember from his father's meetings, most of these Death Eaters belonged in the Inner Circle.

Alex sighed.

Due to the fact that his father too paranoid for his own good, he had blatantly refused to tell_ any_ of his Death Eaters about Alex's existence. After all, Voldemort did believe that there was a leak somewhere in his inner circle. And as far as he was concerned, the longer Dumbledore was ignorant about 'Alex' the safer the boy would remain.

But then again, this_ did_ bring up a sort of problem...

...these Inner Circle Death Eaters would kill him off at sight.

"Nott, what is it?" asked a deep throaty voice, as the man raised his wand cautiously.

Nott held up his hand in silence as his eyes took in the surrounds carefully. "There is a boy here," he said slowly, after a few minutes of silence. "A Mudblood, to be exact."

At those words, the Death Eaters tensed up with excitement, like a wolf getting ready for the kill. Alex on the hand, obviously aware of the Death Eater's mounting excitement, licked his dry lips nervously and gulped.

"A Mudblood? This close to our Lord's hideout?" stated a slimy haired man, with a hook nose sarcastically. "Preposterous."

Nott's ebony black eyes darkened as he matched the man's glare. "Are you suggesting that I was_ lying_ Snape?" he hissed back furiously.

The man in question, Snape, raised an insolent eyebrow as he glazed calmly back at Nott's now purpling complexion. "Did I now," he said with a aristocratic drawl. "If I recall correctly, you managed to make that assumption all by yourself," he finished mockingly, his tone equally condescending.

Alex watched with fascination, as Nott's face turned brighter in sheer anger.

"Damn you," he spat, as he moved in until his face was inches away from the greasy man's. Without missing a beat, Nott's lips curled in threateningly as he bared his teeth. "You'll pay for this Snape," he spat, before turning on heel and walking away.

However, much to Alex's surprise and utter shock, in his fury Nott shot a 'reducto' curse towards the cliff - the exact same one Alex was currently hiding beneath.

'Oh shit.'

In a matter of second, Alex quickly weighed his choices. A) Stay still and pray that somehow no rocks would fall and smash him, or B) Conjure a shield and run. His golden brown eyes widened in shock when he saw a few rocks tumble down near and land with a loud 'thunk' merely a few inches away from him. He did the most sensible thing and shouted, "Protego!" and a bright red dome appeared over him, and ran like the wind.

The boulders crumbled into pieces as they came into contact with Alex's shield; however, this was by all means not a silent affair.

'Boom...'

'Crack...'

'Thunk...'

Alex cursed softly under his breath when he saw that the Death Eaters staring straight at him. Even though he had protected himself from being smashed into putty by the boulders, his shield had given away his position. Silently deciding, Alex canceled his Disillusionment Charm and faced the Death Eaters with a determined smirk. His father_ had_ always said that his fighting style was to_ Gryffindor_ for his liking. Alex shrugged oh well, it was too late to change things right now...

Nott's face lit up with a cruel grin. "Well, well, well...look what we have here." As the other Death Eaters followed in suit.

Alex gulped.

* * *

Severus Snape, resident potions master, and Death Eater-turned spy, was NOT having a good day. First of all, the headmaster - the barmy old coot, had decided for some weird reason that he was_ lonely_ of all things. Not to mention, the old coot had taken it upon himself to bring Severus some cheer and company- in other words, he had invited the entire Potter clan over to Hogwarts for the summer. If he hadn't known any better, he would swear that Dumbledore had quite a few loose screws in his head - company indeed! For the first time since he'd turned spy, Snape was actually_ happy_ to leave the confines of Hogwarts to attend a Death Eater meeting. As far as he was concerned,_ anything_ was better then spending time with the Potters. 

It was absolutely _disgusting_.

Snape swallowed a sigh. Like Nott, he too had caught a glimpse of the dark-haired boy; however, being a spy and such Snape was determined to give the boy time to escape. However, the bloody boy just didn't seem to_ get_ it. He had legs for heaven's sake! Why didn't the brat just run and save him the trouble?

Nott's lips then twisted into a sickening smile. "A Mudblood like I said," he said smugly as he shot Snape a triumphed look.

Snape inclined his head lazily. "Your point being..." he drawled.

Nott exploded and raised his wand to attack Snape; however, Snape was faster. In one swift moment, the potions master raised his wand and slashed it downwards sending a hex towards his dark-haired opponent. Nott staggered backwards.

At that moment, Alex saw an opening and quickly applied his strongest shield over his flickering Protego. He ran and jumped behind a fallen boulder to his left, just missing the streams of spell flying over his head. Alex stuck his head out and swished his wand in a seven-movement and shouted, "ABRIEGO!"

A thick stream of silver blue light shot off in the direction of the Death Eaters, and managed to hit a brunette man who Alex didn't recognize. The jet of light began spreading across the brunette's body until a small ice crystal surrounded it, causing the man to freeze.

The Death Eaters bristled slightly, as they renewed their attacks with vigor.

Alex watched as the boulder he was hiding behind start to crack it was hit, spell by spell. Preparing himself for the worst, Alex leapt out from behind the rock and yelled, "STUPEFY!"

He missed.

Spell after spell came towards him, as his shield absorbed most of them; however, there were quite a few spells that he had to dodge. Alex traded curses with the Death Eaters, successfully knocking out three more of them - including on, Lucius Malfoy.

Alex's eyes flickered nervously. The Death Eaters had surrounded him in a circle and were currently shooting spell after spell at him. He gulped fearfully. It would only be a matter of time before he would be hit.

"Crucio, on three!" ordered a dark haired man with cold silver eyes, as he watched the battle from the sidelines.

The Death Eaters responded to the order instantly.

Alex didn't even have time to blink before a set of eight curses blasted towards him from all directions. 'God, I'm doomed,' he thought, before he was hit straight on.

Red hot knives slashed through every inch of his skin. Alex bit his lip to hold in his scream; however, within a few seconds he burst on screaming. It felt like he was being burned alive, cut up, and tortured. He wanted to die, right then and there...anything to stop the pain.

It went on like that for another few minutes, before he was finally released. In truth, Alex had only been under the curse for around three minutes; however, to him...it felt like a lifetime.

Alex spat out some blood, as he tried shakily to get back on his feet, much to the surprise of the Death Eaters.

Nott frowned as he watched the dark-haired child pull himself to his feet. It was abnormal. None of his victims had ever managed to stand or move for quite some time after being under the curse for more then a minute or so.

"Leave me alone," said Alex in a hoarse voice. "I'm not Muggleborn."

The silver eyed Death Eater stared unblinkingly at Alex. "Which family do you belong to then, boy?"

"I..."

Alex's mind suddenly went blank as the consequences suddenly flooded his mind. It would be dangerous for him to give his family name, for it would then link Voldemort to him. After all, it was a well known fact at least among Death Eaters that Voldemort descended the Mortimer line. Nevertheless, was he betraying his father's trust by telling the Death Eaters the truth?

"I..."

Nott interrupted Alex's train of thought. "Forget it, Kelnos. The boy is lying," he said coldly.

The silver eyed man, Kelnos glazed steadily back at Nott causing the later to shiver slightly in fear. Kelnos stared at Alex for a moment with a calculating expression on his face, before shrugging and turning on heel. "Very well...do as you wish."

Snape blinked at Kelnos's sudden retreat. As far as he knew it, the man_ never_ gave in to anyone's demands save for the Dark Lord's...its was quite strange for him to act so subservient.

"Well boy, any last words?" hissed Nott, with a twisted grin upon his face, as he raised his wand slowly. The tip of his wand began to glow a sickening green...

Alex watched entranced as he watched the magic build up slowly. He didn't know what was wrong with him - whether it may simply be from an overdose of 'Crucio,' jumbling up his nerves or the splitting headache that seemed to be tearing his head in two. For whatever cause it may be, Alex didn't move.

"In that case, AVADA KEDA..."

"STOP," ordered Snape, causing the former to stop mid-curse.

Nott shot Snape a death glare, "...explain yourself, Snape," he sneered as his eyes darkened with hate. "Turning soft now are we?" he taunted, "Afraid of killing a Mudblood?"

Snape frowned. "Don't be a fool, Nott," he said sharply. "Unless you've somehow forgotten, it is our duty to bring any_ spy_ straight to the Dark Lord. We cannot kill off the boy now without facing the consequences."

There was a long moment of silence as Nott weighed his choices.

The dark man scowled darkly before bowing his head in agreement. "Very well," he said tensely, as he turned away from Snape and gave Alex a good hard kick in the stomach. "Bind the boy and revive the fallen."

* * *

Alex fell to his knees and clutched his stomach in pain. Damn it, his entire body was so sore... 

He looked up suddenly when he heard footsteps to his right. It was the slimy haired man, Snape. Alex shot a half-hearted glare towards the Death Eater and struggled to bring himself to his feet. He refused to bow to no one - not even his father.

Alex tilted his chin defiantly, and his golden brown eyes met Snape's beetle black ones.

Suddenly an image appeared in his mind and Alex frowned.

'Legilimens.'

It showed an image of Snape brandishing a set of normal ropes from his wand and wrapping them _loosely_ about Alex. Then the image zoomed in and focused on the wand that was still in Alex's hand...

Alex blinked and shot Snape a thankful smile. It seems as if he still had hope.

"Finished yet Snape?"

Snape nodded and just like in the image, he shot out a set of ropes from his wand that wrapped themselves loosely about Alex. From an outsider's perspective, the ropes tied Alex up like a turkey; however, in truth it actually allowed Alex certain...mobility, in other words - the use of his wand arm.

The dark haired lad's smile grew, as he gave his wand arm a twist.

Now, it was only a matter of time before he would escape.

* * *


	11. The Deadly Escape

**Darkly Treacherous**

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I don't own HP.

'thoughts'

* * *

_In every light there is darkness..._

* * *

Alex winced when one of newer Death Eaters recruits accidentally canceled out the levitation spell; hence, causing him to fall onto the ground like a tussled chicken. The stupid ropes prevented him from moving at all. At best, the most that he could move was probably his wand arm which was tied looser than the rest of his body. Alex bit his lip in pain as he hit the ground back first. Damn it, his entire body was still stinging from the aftereffects of all those bloody pain curses. 

Bloody hell, if the man didn't look so incompetent, Alex would have sworn that he'd done it on purpose.

He shot a dark glare at the man, which the Death Eater gladly returned. After a few minutes of glaring, the Death Eater turned away and swished his wand in a awkward motion and levitated Alex from the ground.

'Stupid Death Eater.'

Alex's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the Death Eater group around him. To his left were two Death Eaters - Malfoy, and Nott, and to his right was Snape and the incompetent fool of a Death Eater that had dropped him. Sufficed as it is, Alex decided that it would be the safest to escape on the right side. Even though he wasn't quite sure why, Snape had helped him earlier and might help him again. And not to mention, the_ other_ Death Eater seemed so incompetent he probably couldn't even possibly be deemed a threat.

But, the real question was:_ Where were the rest? _There were around thirteen Death Eaters originally; however, right now, there are only four guarding him.

His lips curled slightly into a frown. It would be quite difficult to escape unless he knew where his opponents were located. Alex twisted his head slightly to the side stared behind in hopes of catching a glimpse of some more Death Eaters.

He saw nothing.

It was strange...too strange. Had the Death Eaters simply gone ahead to answer his father's call and avoid punishment, or were they hiding behind the trees waiting for him to escape so they could torture him some more? Alex sighed mentally. He didn't like it, his escape plan had too many holes...it was simply too risky.

A devilish sparkle entered his eyes though.

'Hey, you only live once.'

* * *

Severus Snape's lips curled into a disgusted sneer when he saw his partner, Alden Parkinson, fail in casting a simple levitation charm. It was simply astounding how inept these new Death Eaters were. Bloody Hell, the Dark Lord seemed to accept just about _anyone_ into his ranks these days. And well, seeing as how he was on the Light's side, he truthfully couldn't tell whether or not it was a good thing or a bad thing. It was one thing for the Light to be able to defeat these fools; however, it was another that_ he_ was the one that had to remain with these bumbling idiots all day. 

It was disgusting.

Speaking of disgusting,_ why_ hasn't the stupid boy escaped yet? After all, he'd already shown the boy what to do, and by all means the lad should have escaped by now. Snape bit his lip to swallow the vile curses that just begged to be released. Damn it, didn't that fool of a boy_ understand_ that the closer they got to the Dark Lord's fortress, it would be near impossibly for the boy to escape.

There were guards stationed at all the posts and some other Death Eaters lying hidden in the forest. Snape frowned slightly, the boy was as good as dead. Sure, he could admit the boy had talent; however, he had no chance against an entire army of Death Eaters.

Nevertheless, if the boy had to leave...it would be best for him to do it_ right now. _

* * *

Alex fingered his wand for a moment, and silently mumbled a spell to loosen the ropes slightly. Not enough that the Death Eaters would notice; however, enough so that he could move a bit more. His golden brown eyes scoured the ground around him, the Death Eaters were still prowling about him as if he was some human sacrifice about to be made. Nevertheless, the four men did not notice anything amiss. 

Now was the time to act. Alex closed in eyes and concentrated on reaching his magical core. It was a sparkling liquid mass of pure energy, Alex tentatively reached down and touched one of the tentacles that were flailing about. Alex's breathing grew harsh as a jolt of magic shot up through the tentacle and into his body. He felt so much power, energy, and strangely enough...fear?

His father had once warned him about the dangers of core magic. It was just about as dangerous as it was powerful. According to Voldemort, your magical core was_ alive_ and had a mind of its own, to a certain degree. It did not like being controlled, and because of such it was extremely dangerous.

However, he_ needed_ power right now. There were too many Death Eaters about...too much danger.

And because of that, Alex did the one thing that his father, Voldemort was even weary of doing. His grip tightened on the magic tentacle and he gave it a slight tug to get more magic. And at that moment, he_ did_ receive magic - a wave of furious energy crashing down upon him. Alex clenched his teeth and waited until the pain would subside.

It didn't.

It was all that Alex could do not to burst out screaming in pain. Bloody hell, it hurt. Though despite this, he still held on to the strand of magic that was feeding him energy. He couldn't give up now...he just_ couldn't_. His magical core was angry, it wanted revenge and because of it Alex was suffering.

'Please...I'm sorry...' thought Alex, as he felt another wave a pain hit him. 'Stop it...please, I promise next time I won't try to steal...'

The magic wavered for a moment, as if it was confused by what Alex was suggesting.

'This is_ your_ power, and I'm sorry about taking it without your permission,' thought Alex as he tried to apologize. 'But, I need it right now...or else I'm in big trouble.'

The magical core stopped struggling for a long while as it considered the boy's position. The boy, its host, did not steal its magic just to become more powerful; however, the boy did it so that he could survive.

Alex felt the core's acceptance a second before another wave of magic crashed down upon him. He blinked in surprise. This time, it didn't hurt. The magic felt peaceful...soothing, and it calmed and energized him. He lay there for another few minutes wallowing in the magic, before he realized that time was running out.

Alex opened his eyes and smiled.

'It's show time.'

* * *

Nott glared at the boy's still form in disgust. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that the boy had fallen asleep! The boy was a prisoner of all things!_ Why_ in the name of Hell, did the Mudblood look even more comfy and relaxed then the rest of the Death Eaters? A small vein appeared on his forehead as his fingers twitched slightly as if longing to curse and torture the lad. 

The boy's eyes suddenly snapped open.

Nott saw Malfoy take a step back in shock. The blonde had a look of horror etched upon his face as his pale gray eyes stared blankly towards the boy. Nott frowned and followed Malfoy's glaze and gasped.

The boy, the Mudblood's eyes were glowing dimly in the dark - like those of a predator. Nott felt his hair stand up in fear. It was all that he could do to prevent himself from bolting away from the boy. He flinched slightly when the eyes shifted from a golden brown to a dark emerald shade; however, when he turned back the eyes had returned back to normal.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Parkinson dumbly, as he scratched his cheek in a lazy motion.

Malfoy sneered disdainfully. "Fool," he spat as shot a dark glare towards Parkinson. His lips curled in disgust, as he took in Parkinson's incessant scratching. "Stop it Parkinson," he said sharply, "You're a pureblood not some fleabag _mongrel_."

"But its..."

"Shut it," growled Nott, as pointed his wand threateningly at Parkinson. "You too Malfoy," he added when he caught sight of Malfoy's taunting smile. The dark-haired man ignored both Malfoy's and Parkinson's glares and turned away. However, Nott stopped mid-step and frowned before tilting his nose and sniffing.

'Smoke.'

Alex's power sizzled against the magical ropes that held him prisoner. In his mind's eye he could see his power - a dark royal blue hue - fighting against the ropes magic which had a distinctively silver sheen to it. It was quite..._interesting_...to tell you the truth. He had never seem magic like this...so raw and beautiful. And yet, it hurt.

Instinctively, Alex reached out and pooled in some of his core magic into himself. The effect was instantaneous.

'BOOM!'

The Death Eaters ducked as one. Smoke, dust and derbies scattered about the entire field, as some of the surrounding trees shook from the magical whiplash. And it was at that moment, that Alex decided to make his move.

"Acteico Pleothum!" whispered Alex as he swished his wand in a circular motion before slashing downwards. A thick stream of slimy green goo bubbled out of his wand and spread quickly across the forest grounds. Everything that the goo touched transformed into more goo...until almost the entire ground in a 35 meter radius was covered with it. He smiled slightly to himself, 'god how he loved this spell.' When his father had taught it too him, he had been slightly hesitant about learning how to perform this Acid Spreading Curse. The curse was extremely hard to cast and onlya_ select_ few could cast it since it required a tremendous amount of power and control.In addition, the curse was also quite deadly if it was preformed correctly; however, the downside was that it was also quite dangerous to the caster _unless_ they added an extra protection charm for themselves...

Alex held his wand up to eye level and whispered, "Enthuy," and a bright golden mist emerged from his wand and surrounded him. Within a few seconds, the mist slowly crept up against his skin and began fusing into his aura. Alex's smile grew, as he stepped down right into the goo...only to feel nothing. Thankfully, he had managed to perform the spell correctly; however, if he hadn't...well, lets just say that his feet would he burning along with the rest of the Death Eaters.

"Damn you!" cursed Nott, as he tried to levitate himself above the growing spread of acid only to fall right back down. The dark-haired man released a string of curses before turning towards the golden eyed boy. His eyes narrowed when he misinterpreted Alex's smile as a triumphedsmirk. Momentarily forgetting the pain in his feet, Nott shot a deadly curse at Alex before growling, "You'll pay..." he swore with a insane glint in his eye. "I'll make your regret the day you were born."

Alex ducked just a few inches away from the curse. Without missing a beat, Alex quickly conjured a magic carpet from one of the fallen boulders and jumped on. Mentally, he cursed himself for being acting so foolishly and staying about. The Acid Spreading Curse doesn't prevent its victim from moving; however, it_ does_ tend to make movement _extremely_ painful. He tapped the carpet and urged it to start flying. Alex turned his head slightly and gulped when he saw Nott's insane glare. No, as far as he was concerned, the pain from the Acid Spreading Curse was not going to be enough to stop Nott from exacting his vengeance.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" screamed two voices that Alex recognized as Malfoy and Nott.

At that moment, two deadly flashes of light shot towards Alex with frightening speed. And for the first time in his life, Alex could truthfully admit that he was scared. His body was still sore from the massive amount of 'Crucios.' He just couldn't move fast enough to dodge...Even with the help of his core magic, Alex knew deep down that he wouldn't be able to dodge both of those shots. He closed his eyes in resignation and acceptance. Dimly from the background he heard another killing curse being fired at him. This was the end...there was no possible way for him to survive...

"Accio Alex..." hissed a dark serpentine voice, and with a start Alex was jerked out of range only to fall right into a pair of cold arms. Alex let out a slight whimper as his broken bones slammed against a seemingly rock hard chest. He struggled slightly and tried to escape; however, the man refused to let go.

"Brat..."


	12. The Wrath of a Lord

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By: xxlostdreamerxz**

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

Voldemort's rub red eyes grew wide as he caught the blood-soaked figure standing defiantly against his prize Death Eaters. Had it been any other boy, the Dark Lord would have dismissed the fool's death without a thought. However, this was no ordinary child that stood before him. It was Alex. And for the first time in decades, Voldemort felt a twinge of true fear... 

...not for himself, but for Alex.

His foolish, yet charming heir...

So Voldemort did the only thing his fear-muddled mind would allow. He raised his wand and_ summoned_ the boy away from the pair of deadly green curses. Yes,_ summoned_. Had Voldemort been in a more sane mood, he would have been disgusted at his lack of self-control and the fact that he'd cast an _ elementary_ curse of all things.

After all, it just did not do for a Dark Lord, of all people, to go about waving his wand foolishly and casting 4th year curses.

Nevertheless, Voldemort's entire concentration was focused directly on the young dark-haired child that was shooting off towards him. With a reluctant sigh, he opened his arms and prepared to catch the boy.

And catch he did.

Eh...or so he thought.

As predicted, Voldemort had managed to catch Alex before he'd fallen. Nevertheless, he'd_ accidentally_ caught the boy at a slightly awkward angle. The boy's head slammed against his chest, causing the red-haired man to wince slightly; however, it was nothing compared to the soft scream that emerged from his heir's lips. Voldemort's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he slowly pushed aside Alex's bangs...and removed it only to find his entire hand soaked with blood.

..._Alex's _blood.

Voldemort's eyes darkened with anger until they became nothing more than a demonic set of red orbs. A jet of 'Avada Kedavra' green sparks shot dangerously out of his wand, as his fingers twitched sporadically as he tried to calm down his raging temper.

Alex let out a soft whimper almost as if he felt the man's anger and began to struggle.

The Dark Lord's anger ceased temporarily as he noticed the dire condition the boy was in. "Brat?" he hissed softly, as he tightened his hold on the boy.

Alex abruptly jerked to a stop just in time to prevent his elbow from slamming into his man's stomach. His mind felt muddled and numb...hell, his entire body felt that way. Alex tilted his head slightly and looked up hopefully at the man's face.

'Father.'

Seeing that help had arrived, the adrenaline that had kept him awake for the past few hours died. Like a waning flame in the wind, the power from his core instantly disappeared causing Alex slumped tiredly against Voldemort's thick velvety black robes and wrapped his arm around his father's neck to prevent from falling.

Voldemort frowned slightly at Alex's sudden tiredness, before asking in a neutral voice, "Where are you injured?"

The boy did not answer.

"Brat?"

Still no answer.

"Boy?"

Nothing.

"Alex?" he tried hesitantly, the boy's name feeling weird on his tongue. In the past three years, he'd never once referred to the boy by his name...just the usual 'brat' and occasional 'boy.'

The lad wearily opened his eyes, and tired golden brown eyes met Voldemort' ruby red ones. "You've never called me that before," he whispered softly, almost sadly.

Voldemort felt a slight trickle of guilt at the boy's words, but he suppressed them instantly. "Yes, brat...Alex," he corrected after a moment's pause. "Where are you hurt?"

The boy's eyes closed slightly before fluttering back open. "Everywhere," he whispered softly, as he sagged weakly against his father.

And it was at that moment that Voldemort felt the weak tremors coming from his heir. The boy was shaking like mad...however, the only cause of such tremors was due to magical exhaustion...or overexposure to torture. Looking carefully at Alex's drawn and pale features, Voldemort bet on the later.

_"Nagini..."_ he hissed loudly, as he waited impatiently for his snake-familiar to arrive. Voldemort did not have to wait long, for within a matter of seconds a long ebony black snake slithered out from behind a flowering bush.

The snake released a furious hiss as she caught sight of Alex._ "Master, what happened?"_

_"It seems my Death Eaters have been...misbehaving lately." _

Nagini shivered slightly when she tasted the dark taste of pure anger in the air. Her master was angry, very much so indeed. The last time she'd caught him so angry...was the day he'd murdered his father. And for the first time in her life, she slightly_ pitied_ the Light. Yes, let that barmy old fool try and attack her snake-child. She snuck another glance at Voldemort and slithered a few steps back when she saw his expressionless eyes and face. Yes, the Light would be doomed if they dared to lay a finger on her snake-child. As it so seemed, Alex had managed to somehow sneak himself into the Dark Lord's heart...

...or at least what was left of it.

_"How may I help, Master?"_

Voldemort's expression darkened slightly as he took in Alex's injuries. He raised his wand and mumbled a few choice incantations under his breath and waved his wand in a triangular motion before pointing directly at the boy. "Healitus," he hissed, and the open cuts on Alex instantly mended as a few thin black scar appeared in their place. Without further ado, Voldemort conjured a flying stretcher that was set to follow Nagini.

_"Nagini, I want you to return him to the hideout,"_ he said slowly, as he gently placed Alex's shivering body onto the stretcher. His eyes softened slightly and he conjured a pair of blankets for the boy and covered him._ "When you get there, go to the Potions Chamber and give him a calming potion as well as a healing potion,"_ when he saw Nagini's puzzled expression, he added,_ "You can read all of the labels, for they are written in Parseltongue."_

Nagini bobbed her head._ "Anything else, master?"_

Voldemort shook his head,_ "Just tell Alex when he wakes up that I will see to him shortly..."_ His smile turned feral._ "Tell him that I have some...Death Eater...business to take care of."_

_"As you wish, Master,"_ she hissed as she slithered away as quickly as she could with a small stretcher floating just a few inches behind her. And Voldemort watched them leave before turning away and stepping out from behind the trees into the clearing to face his Death Eaters.

Voldemort lips twisted into a dark smile, for the first time in a long time, he was _actually_ lookingforward to seeing his Death Eaters.

* * *

Nott released a low growl of fury when he saw the killing curses miss the boy and slam into the ground causing a large dust cloud to emerge and cover the surrounding area. With a disgusted cough, Nott waved his wand and dispelled the dust cloud...only to find that the 'Mudblood' was missing. He frowned slightly, as his mind ran over the event that occurred during the last few minutes with care. If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that he'd heard another voice... 

...but that was impossible, for the only people in the surrounding area were Death Eaters. Nott's lips twisted into a gleeful smile, that is...unless they had a _spy_ among their ranks. Yes, he was quite sure that this little tidbit of information would enhance his status in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Nott licked his lips greedily at the thought.

To think, he was gaining so much just by torturing a 'Mudblood.' It made him feel all giddy inside.

"_Ick_...bloody dust," spat Malfoy from somewhere behind him, as he heard the blonde quickly cast a cleaning and refreshing charm on himself. Nott rolled his eyes, 'Malfoys,' he thought in distaste as he saw the blonde man cast another wrinkleless charm on his robes, before eyeing it once again in inspection.

"Nott, should we pursue the 'Mudblood?" asked Parkinson, as he struggled to pull himself on to his feet. However, much to his disappointment, he slid on a puddle of acid and fell right back down. "Ouch!" he yelped, as he rubbed his hands over his sore buttocks.

Malfoy, who had just recently completed his grooming, turned towards the Parkinson with a scowl. "Of course not you fool," he snarled, as his lips curled into a distasteful sneer. "We are wasting too much time on a mere..._'Mudblood,_" he said delicately, as he twiddled his wand precariously in his hand. "I have better things to do that chase an...animal, through these forests."

"Precisely," a snaky voice added from behind the three men.

Malfoy turned slightly at the voice, "Where were hiding for the past few minutes Snape?" he asked with narrowed eyes. "Afraid of a 'Mudblood child?'

The oily haired man sneered back in response. "_Afraid? Of a 'Mudblood?_" he repeated in disbelief, before his thin lips twisted into a dark smirk. "Unless I'm mistaken, which I sincerely doubt that I am," he drawled, "you bunch were screaming your heads off like a cluster of Gryffindors."

"I was not screaming," protested Nott, as he walked until he was level with Snape.

Snape raised a thin eyebrow. "Oh? Pardon me," he said insincerely, "You were..._howling._"

"That's **_enough_**," snapped Malfoy, when he saw Nott's face turn a purplish shade. Malfoy shot Snape a dangerous glare which the potions master gladly returned. "Stop baiting him Snape," he ordered.

Snape rolled his eyes in response; however, to Malfoy's relief, he wisely held his tongue. And a uncomfortable silence fell among the four Death Eaters, as they eyed each other with annoyance.

"So...what are we going to do now?" asked Parkinson loudly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "I'm bored."

"You're bor...?"

Snape rubbed his temples in frustration, as he felt another headache coming into being. "Forget about the Mudblood," snapped Snape, as leaned tiredly against the charred trunk of a tree. "We're already late for our Lord's meeting," he said bitingly, "I for one do not wish to be punished any more than usual."

Nott who had remained quiet for most of the conversation suddenly burst out furiously, "**What!"** he screamed, as he pointed an accusing finger at Snape. "You're just going to let the boy..._escape?_" he asked in disbelief.

Being his usual snaky self, Snape snorted. "Your sense of perception is astounding, Nott. The boy has already escaped, and has probably long gone from here."

"But...our Lord..."

"...is going to be furious at us as it is," finished Snape, as he turned away from Nott. "Our Lord does not tolerate mistakes, of any form whatsoever," suddenly feeling vicious, he added, "And who's to say that he'd actually believe your little story about a finding a 'Mudblood' this close to the headquarters?"

Nott bared his teeth. "Of course he'd believe me..."

Snape snorted. "It's your own grave," he said as he began walking away.

"Damn you, Snape," he cursed shooting a deadly glare towards the potion master's back. "If our Lord does not believe our story, you will also have to pay the price. You_ helped_ us..."

Snape turned his head slightly and shot a triumphed smirk. "Believe whatever you want Nott; however, I know that will not be punished quite as..._harshly_...as you," he taunted.

"Why..."

The slimy haired man frowned lightly. "Why else, Nott? The Dark Lord needs my services as the Potions Master; hence, so long as I don't do anything drastic, I shall be left off fairly lightly."

"You lie..."

"Leave it, Nott," snapped Malfoy. "Snape's right, we're already late as it is. We might as well hurry."

The dark haired man's lip curled into a distasteful frown; nevertheless, he turned towards the direction of the fortress and pushed Snape aside and stomped furiously on the shrubs. "Fine," he hissed, "Hurry it up then." However, much to his shock, Nott suddenly felt himself crash face first into something hard.

'Stones...'

Nott winced in pain and rubbed his nose. 'What in the name of hell was going on?' A tall mossy stone wall had suddenly erupted in front of him and his fellow Death Eaters. Slowly but carefully, he reached out his hand to touch the wall...only to be thrown back by a jolt of lighting that shot out from within the wall.

"Fuck."

Snape personally agreed, with Nott's assessment as three other such walls erupted from the ground and surrounded them. Yes, today was just so_ not_ his day. Stiffly, Snape reached into his wand holster and pulled out his ebony black wand and held it out in a threatening manner before him, and the other Death Eaters followed suit.

Behind him, he felt, rather then heard Malfoy's nervous breaths. The stupid fool was breathing so loudly that he couldn't hear anything, other then the blonde. Once again, Snape cursed the day he'd joined with these idiots to support the Dark Lord. Fools, the lot of them.

Fools that were probably going to get him killed.

Snape darted a glance towards Parkinson, before cursing softly under his breath. The blonde was staring dimly about in fascination, or horror. Snape bet on the former, Parkinson was to stupid to realize when his life was in jeopardy.

"Hey Snape, doesn't that rock look like a snake?" commented Parkinson, as he pointed to a rock to the far corner of the room.

Snape looked at Parkinson in disbelief. Here they were, trapped inside a stone box of all things and Parkinson was commenting on the patterns on the rocks. Didn't the man have_ any_ sense of self-preservation?

Parkinson reached out to touch the rock.

Snape sighed, when he heard a girlish scream echo about the walls. ...And the man was suppose to be a_ Slytherin_.

From the corner of his eyes, Snape caught a dark figure moving across the edge of the far wall. The shadow flickered slightly, as if it was made of nothing more than a wisp of darkness. It was a man...or some creature of some sort. Snape feigned ignorance and waited for the figure to make its first move. As the thing came closer...and closer, Snape caught the sight of a long black cloak, whose hood shadowed the figure's face. All color drained from Snape's face as he realized what it was.

'A Dementor.'

In his moment of panic, Snape's mind instantly turned to survival mode.He did not consider the fact that the creature could...possibly not be a Dementor merely some other Dark Creature. Along with that, he'd forgotten that the presence of a Dementor could be felt yards away...and that he_ still_ couldn't feel anything coming from said creature. Nevertheless, Snape did the stupidest thing in his life.

He raised his wand and shouted, "Expeto Patronus..." and a bright slightly misty shape of a crow burst out and flew towards the offending clocked figure. Snape watched with a triumphed smile and waited for the Dementor to retreat...

...however, retreat it did not.

The 'Dementor' merely frowned and raised its...wand? A pair of familiar ruby red eyes glinted dangerously from beneath the hood, as the man conjured a shield that caused the Patronus to disappear the moment it touched.

Snape felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, and his face usual sallow face paled to a silky white pallor. He'd...bloody hell, he was doomed...

He'd just cursed the Dark Lord.


	13. Treacherous

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

_Nothing ever dies so long as it is remembered. _

* * *

The entire chamber fell deadly silent the moment the Death Eaters recognized their master. 

"Ma...Master," stuttered out Parkinson as he took a step backwards in fear, not noticing the flash of anger that flickered across Voldemort's face. "Why are you...oomph," he grunted as Malfoy elbowed him sharply in the stomach. "What's wrong with you Malfoy? I was just..."

Voldemort's ruby red eyes narrowed slightly.

"My Lord," interrupted Malfoy with a silky smile. "You honor us with your presence," he said reverently, as he tried to soothe the Dark Lord's temper. "How may we be of service?"

The Dark Lord's fingered his wand, as he glared at his Death Eaters. "Crucio," he hissed softly, as he placed all four of his Death Eaters under Cruciatus curse. Their screams were music to his ears. His eyes glazed blankly at the twitching figures on the floor.

These were the ones that had hurt_ him._

The ones who were responsible for_ his_ condition.

Alex, his...his_...child_?

Voldemort frowned as his thoughts whirled about in confusion. Now that he thought about it,_ why_ was he angry? He sent another jolt of power through his wand and felt, rather than heard his Death Eaters scream. He had never felt fear before...

...especially that for another person.

But that was expected of him. After all, the orphanage had destroyed every ounce of humanity that he'd ever possessed until he became nothing more than an empty shell. He did not care, nor had he ever cared about_ anyone's_ welfare other than his own. Voldemort's eyes darkened slightly. Emotions were for the weak...they always were.

But, then why did he care?

With a slight snarl, Voldemort canceled the curse and waited impatiently for his Death Eaters to regain their composure. Feeling a headache begin to emerge, he pushed aside his thoughts. He could deal with the brat later, right now he had to concentrate on his Death Eaters. His lips curled slightly into a twisted smile at the thought.

Weak or no, the Death Eaters were going to_ pay_ for harming his heir.

"Master," gasped Nott, as he crawled forward and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "Your kindness knows no bounds." However, even as he uttered those words of praise, Nott flinched backwards as the Dark Lord's ruby red eyes focused upon him.

Snape winced slightly at Nott's blatant lie. Didn't the man have any idea how much the Dark Lord_ hated_ being lied to? His breath hitched as the Dark Lord's eyes moved on towards him. But then again, the Dark Lord _hated_ being cursed even_ more_.

"Fool," spat the Voldemort, as he slammed the heel of his black dragon-hide boots straight down upon the middle of Nott's hand. A sickening crack echoed about the chamber which was instantly followed by a horrible scream. Voldemort's lips curled into a cruel smile. He had completely shattered the fool's bones with that one blow.

Nott's eyes watered in pain; however, he bit his lips to prevent himself from screaming.

"I want a full report, Nott," hissed Voldemort, as his dark eyes glinted dangerously. Nott's breath hitched slightly; however, he couldn't seem to utter a word. "_Now_," snapped Voldemort impatiently.

"My Lord, would you like me to..." began Malfoy, only to drop back down to the floor screaming when the Dark Lord shot another Cruciatus curse towards him.

"Do not test my patience, Malfoy," hissed Voldemort, as he canceled the curse after a few minutes. "Next time, you might not be so lucky."

Malfoy bowed his head in respect as he rose stiffly from the ground and stepped back in line with Parkinson and Snape. If there was one thing that he'd learned over years of service, was that silence was golden...or at least in Voldemort's case. The Dark Lord did not tolerate fools, especially loud ones.

Which made him wonder, exactly _how_ Parkinson managed to survive as long as he did in his Lord's ranks.

Nott cradled his broken hand and took a deep breath before hastily beginning his report. Pain or no pain, there was nothing stupider than to keep the Dark Lord waiting. "My Lord," he hissed out between tightly clenched teeth, "We, your loyal Death Eaters, have discovered a_ spy_." Nott took a deep breath as he tried to suppress the pain. "And not just any spy, but a_ Mudblood_ one," he spat.

Snape's breath hitched as he saw something akin to anger flicker across the Dark Lord's usually bloodthirsty eyes. He licked his dry lips nervously. Was Voldemort angry merely because they'd found a spy? Strangely enough, he didn't think so.

He'd served Voldemort for decades as it is, and the man did_ not_ get angry easily. Annoyed, yes. But anger was an emotion that he'd ceased to associate with the Dark Lord...well, that is unless the man was in the presence of one Albus Dumbledore. Snape frowned slightly, as he recalled the strangely bright glint that followed closely behind the anger...

...worry...

The Dark Lord was worried about something.

"Then where_ is_ this infamous spy of yours, Nott?" taunted Voldemort, as his fingers stroked his yew wand. His ruby red eyes trailed off towards the prone figures of Snape and Malfoy, and his smile grew when he saw them flinch as one.

Nott shot the remaining Death Eaters a pleading glance, urging the others to speak up.

The other stubbornly remained silent. Even Parkinson, the scatterbrain, held his tongue. Even though Parkinson who was a _tad _clueless, understood that _now _was not the best of times to question his Lord's authority. Especially due to the fact this the Dark Lord's magic had suddenly gone cold...

In its raw form, there were two different types of magic. The first kind is that of warm magic which is tied specifically with the emotions from our daily lives. Whether it may be anger, hate, happiness, or merely just amusement...magic is powered by emotions. So in theory, the stronger the emotions, the stronger spells you'd be able to cast. And just about every witch or wizard casts spells in this category.

Lastly, the most powerful and dangerous type of magic was that of cold magic. This form of "emotion" magic comes not from the castor, but rather from their magic. Simply put, magic is alive and under extreme emotional stress, the castor's emotions snap and their magic takes control. However, it is not the same as being possessed, since the castor_ is_ in control...though he loses every ounce of 'warm' emotion he possesses for the time being.

And Voldemort was already cruel enough when he used 'warm' magic. The last thing_ anyone_ wanted to see was their Lord going cold...

"Master, the spy disappeared," protested Nott, as he licked his lips nervously. "We managed to apprehend the boy; however, he managed to escape our clutches..."

"A boy? You mean a_ child_ do you not, Nott?" hissed Voldemort as cheek twitched in fury. "A...child managed to escape from the clutches of my inner circle?" he practically spat in disgust.

"My Lord...I..."

"Crucio," he hissed, as he pointed his ebony wand at the shaking fool. "You must be a fool Nott to tell me such blatant...lies. It is impossible for a _ child_ of all things to wander this close to my fortress. Especially a Mudblood."

Nott's breath came out in harsh gasps as he felt the curse being lifted. "No...I would...never every dream of lying to you, my Lord," he whispered weakly. "It is the truth, we _saw_ a Mudblood boy wandering about. We all did."

"Crucio."

Nott's screams echoed about the solid stone foundation of death chamber. The other Death Eater flinched back as one when they caught sight of the insane glint in their Lord's eyes. Sparks of magic, and angry red flared cruelly about Voldemort which gave the man the impression of a demonic devil. Though that was probably not far from the truth.

"Was there a child, Nott?" questioned Voldemort, as he twirled his wand about.

"Master, I saw..."

"Crucio," he hissed softly, as a blood red jet of light shot towards the prone figure on the floor. Voldemort held the curse for a few minutes before lifting it. "Was there a child?" he repeated quietly.

"I..." Nott paused for a moment, as he saw the Dark Lord's wand point glow once again. "No...there was not child, my Lord," whispered Nott, hastily. "We were mistaken."

The magical glow dimmed, and Nott released a sigh of relief. That is until he looked up and saw the demonic red glow in his master's eyes...and it was at that moment that he knew that he was doomed.

"So you did lie to me, no?" the Dark Lord said coldly, as his ruby red eyes swept across the entire room and fell towards the kneeling forms of Snape, Malfoy, and Parkinson. "As did you companions..."

And the Death Eaters shivered as one when a multitude of torture devices appeared before them.

"...and I believe that you need to...relearn quite a few_ lessons..."_

* * *

_"Snake-child?"_ hissed Nagini as she prodded Alex's shoulder with her tail. The boy winced slightly and turned away from her._ "Master wanted you to take these potions." _

Alex shook his head slightly, as he buried himself back into his sheets. It hurt so bad...

With an annoyed hiss Nagini slithered closer and wrapped herself about the boy's limp arm._ "Drink,"_ she urged softly._ "Master said it would make the pain go away." _

Alex felt something slimly drip down his shirt and forced his eyes open before shutting them in disbelief. Nagini was curled on top of him trying to force a vile of potions down his throat. A vile that she happened to be balancing with her tail. 'Was the day going to get any stranger?' Weakly he opened his mouth and waited for Nagini to pour the potions.

Nagini positioned her tail right over Alex's mouth and tilted the potion ever so slightly so that the drops of gunk slowly made its way down the boy's throat._ "You are very lucky to be alive, snake-child,"_ she hissed quietly, as she continued to pour the potion in._ "Master's snakes do not like competition."_

Alex took a deep gulp and slowly felt the pain ebb away._ "Snakes?"_ he repeated,_ "You mean Death Eaters?" _

Nagini bobbed her head._ "Yes...Death Eaters,"_ she amended._ "I have watched them, every since Master first initiated them. They are cruel, and would do anything to gain Master's favor. Treacherous little snakes they are,"_ Nagini hissed in disgust._ "I have warned Master over and over again to kill them..." _

Alex raised an eyebrow. How interesting. Nagini did not trust any of the Death Eaters.

_"...before they try to kill him,"_ ranted Nagini as she withered about agitation._ "Those...Death Eaters, are too power-hungry..."_

_"Nagini, why would the Death Eaters even** want** to kill father?"_ protested Alex_, "Isn't he their rallying point? Their leader? I mean, father **is** trying to rid the world of muggles." _

Nagini released a tired hiss._ "You are young, snake-child,"_ she said after a moment of silence, _"..and innocent of the ways of the world. Those** humans**..."_ she spat,_ "...would turn their back to Master the moment things go awry. I see it in their eyes, they** hate** bowing down to anyone, they crave power...especially the kind that Master wields." _

Alex sighed, _"I understand, Nagini,"_ he said quietly._ "So basically Death Eaters would do anything just to gain power, even if it goes as far as assassinating Father..."_

_"Exactly,"_ hissed Nagini._ "Haven't you ever wondered **why** Master never revealed your identity to the Death Eaters before? Or even to his precious Inner Circle?" _

Alex shook his head slowly._ "I suppose it might have crossed my mind every once in awhile, but it didn't really matter,"_ he said with a shrug,_ "I was happy with the way things were, so why would I care if I was acknowledged before his Death Eaters. It's not like it makes a difference one way or another. Father...cared about me."_ Alex paused for a second, before asking hesitantly,_ "Didn't he?"_

Nagini flicked her tongue at him and hissed comfortingly._ "Master is a difficult person to understand,"_ she said soothingly._ "I have been with him for almost fifty years...but,"_ Nagini paused for a moment and looked directly into Alex's glamoured golden eyes._ "...I have never seen him act so...human before. Yes, snake-child, he cared."_

A soft smile emerged upon the boy's face, causing Nagini to hiss fondly.

* * *

**Flashback **

* * *

"Begin." 

Alex instantly ducked and rolled to his left, barely dodging the sharp glimmering sword. Without missing a beat, he quickly drew out his own sword and turned just in time to block a possibly fatal blow from his father.

"Is that the best you can do, brat?" taunted Voldemort, as he eyed his heir with something akin to disappointment. "Show me that you are worthy of the noble name of Mortimer."

A smile tugged on Alex's lips. "Alright,_ pops,_" he teased, causing Voldemort's eyes to widen in surprise. During that moment of inattention, Alex quickly jumped back and swung his sword towards his father's neck. The satisfying clash of metal against metal echoed about the room. Alex's golden brown eyes met his father's demon red ones, and then Alex grinned.

A second sword, though slightly shorter in length, appeared in his other hand. Alex quickly slashed at his father's exposed stomach hoping against hope to score a hit. However, much to Alex's disappointment, the moment his sword made contact with Voldemort's pale skin, said man disappeared.

"What..." Alex froze when he felt metal pressed against his throat. He sighed dramatically and leaned back against his Father. "Alright, alright, you win," he said grumpily.

Voldemort removed the silver dagger away from his heir's throat. "You're still too slow, brat," he said in annoyance. "The least you can do is last more than a few_ seconds_ against me in battle."

Alex bowed his head in shame as his father's words echoed about his mind. However, he was jerked out of his thoughts when he felt a cold finger tilt his head upward.

"Do not fret, you will become strong one day...brat," said Voldemort, as something akin to pride flashed across his normally expressionless eyes. "One of these days you will show the world who you really are...and I will always be by your side."

* * *


	14. Instructor?

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

_Memories are fickle, they can either harm or help you._

_Random_

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

* * *

Alex strolled quickly through the corridors of the Hideaway as he made his way to his father's private study. His robes, this time a shade of midnight blue, whipped about his lean figure as his golden brown eyes darted about cautiously. A month or so ago, Alex would not have even bothered to bring his wand around unless he planned on going outside. However, after his 'capture,' Alex had learned his lesson. 

The lesson of caution.

During his imprisonment, he'd learned first hand how cruel and deadly Death Eaters could be. His father had once told him about his Death Eaters; however, as it so seemed, Voldemort just happened to gloss over a_ few_ minor points. The very points that his father knew he would not like to hear. But, surprisingly enough...he wasn't angry.

For some unknown reason, his father tried to preserve his image of childhood. Voldemort had never physically harmed him before, though there had been quite a few close cases when he was younger. Alex shrugged lightly at the thought. He_ had_ been quite a brat back then, and he was quite surprised that his father had actually managed to keep his temper in check. Though at any rate, Voldemort_ did_ punish him from time to time, but nothing too horrible.

Alex let small smile cross his lips at the thought. Back then, his punishments often involved survival training in the dark forest with Nagini for company and extra protection, of course. For the most part, he just had to camp outdoors for a week or so, before he was allowed to return back to the compound. Or sometimes, Voldemort wanted him to practice his scouting skills and search for a particular item in the forest.

It was purely education, of course.

During one of his meetings with his father, Voldemort revealed his past at the orphanage. Alex was intuitive enough to read between the lines and see the truth. His father_ hated_ Muggles with a passion. Though his father was a Slytherin, Alex seriously doubted that he would have picked up the propaganda from his house about Mudbloods and such, had it not been for the Muggles at the orphanage. His father had been independent and powerful; however, his life and beliefs had been molded by those around him.

Molded by their hate, their disgust, and of course their punishments. And because of that, Voldemort wanted to give Alex the one thing that he'd never had. The power of choice. He did not want Alex to be a slave to his emotions, but for him to have the power to be his own person. The power to stand against the world.

Alex stopped about a foot away from an ivory model of a skull which hovered delicately on top of a silver column. "May the Lords of Slytherin reign," he hissed in Parseltongue. The skull's empty eye sockets glowed for a second before a hidden panel silently slid open in front of him. Without wasting a second, Alex quickly stepped across the threshold as the panel closed with a gentle click.

A dark blue jet of light few towards him, a Freezing curse by the looks of it, Alex quickly whipped out his wand and muttered an incantation, as a silver dome erupted from his wand. The moment the curse hit his shield, a soft suctioning sound occurred as Alex's silver shield absorbed his father's curse.

"You're late, brat."

Alex shrugged but gave his father a slightly apologetic smile, "I lost track of time."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow as he studied his heir suspiciously. "You've been studying?" he stated quietly. "How unlike you..."

The boy flushed slightly at the truth of those words. Before his encounter with the Death Eaters, there was nothing more in the world that he_ hated_ more than studying and going to his lesson. Hell, there were times in the past when he'dplayed the 'sick child' just to escape his lessons...though, he_ had_ been caught each and every time.

"Well, I guess I'm growing up," tried Alex.

Voldemort frowned as his eyebrows rose in disbelief.

Alex pouted. "Hey, what's with that look?" he said in mock defensiveness. "I_ am_ getting older."

"Physically, yes," his father conceded, "Though mentally, I'd have to say that you've digressed over the years. You're an even more annoying brat than you were when I first met you."

"Eh...thanks?" said Alex as he scratched his head in confusion.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. Such Gryffindorish expressions were as disgusting. And of all things, such expressions did** not** belong on his heir's face. "Tell me, brat," he said after a moment of silence, "What is it that you are studying? You have never cared much about magic, nor any of our lessons."

Alex winched. 'Touché.' He knew that he wasn't the smartest chip off the block nor the most enthusiastic, but geez...did his father_ have_ to remind him of that every single time? He looked up and met his father's glaze, and smirked slightly. "Well...everything, I guess," he said simply.

Voldemort scowled. "Can you be any more vague, brat?"

"Is that a question?" teased Alex, as he gave his father a comforting smile. "If you_ really_ want to know..."

_"Just answer the question,"_ hissed Voldemort, reverting to Parseltongue as an annoyed glint flashed across his eyes._ "Stop playing the fool, it does not suit you." _

Alex frowned an crossed his arms in response. "Well, you_ did_ tell me to practice using my mask whenever possible," he said in a hurt voice. "If you wanted me to stop, you could have just asked me."

The Dark Lord's eyes softened for a second, before becoming its normal indifferent glint. The boy_ was_ becoming quite the talented actor. Before he'd taught the boy, Alex had been a mess both mentally and physically. He remembered the time he'd walked in seeing the boy crying himself to sleep. Alex had been so dependent and clingy at first, for he had been scared that his newly appointed father would hated him...just like his real parents had. And even to this day, something Alex reverted back to his original self...and showed his true face, without the happy mask.

And revealed a hurt, emotional child.

"Brat...Alex," Voldemort corrected himself, as he paused for a second to think of how to put his thoughts into words. "I must admit, your mask is quite good," he said awkwardly. "Your acting will be quite useful for the Dark later on during the war."

Alex looked down at his shoes, as he mumbled something under his breath.

"Speak up, brat," commanded Voldemort.

The boy fingered his robes nervously, as his eyes darted about worriedly. "I said..." muttered Alex, as his hands bundled into fists. "...would it matter to you if I was useful or not to your cause?" he whispered softly.

Voldemort blinked in surprise.

"...I mean, I know you took me in since I survived the Killing Curse and also because you thought I might be a relative," said Alex quickly as a stream of words flew out of his mouth. "But...what if I'm not strong or smart enough to help you? Would you get rid of me like you would with your Death Eaters?"

Voldemort frowned as his face void of any expression, though his mind was racing. He had to give it to the lad, Alex_ was_ smart to be able to put together the clues and come to such a conclusion. A conclusion that he had considered a few years back when he'd first taken the boy in. He had known it was a risk trying to raise a Light family child as his heir, and he _knew_ that the boy's true loyalty could never be certain...

Nevertheless, Voldemort tried to assuage his heir's fears. After all, it would do him no good if the boy became scared of him. For if that did happen, the boy would become weak. "Have you forgotten, Alex," he hissed delicately, as he leaned forward and stared into Alex's glamoured golden brown eyes. "That you are my heir...and the heir of Slytherin for that matter. You are more important than a_ mere_ Death Eater," his father sneered lightly. "And god forbid, I ever treat you as of such," he drawled, trying his best to look convincing.

"So then you wouldn't..."

Voldemort wand sent out a jet of angry red sparks. "This subject is closed," he snapped, causing Alex to flinched black slightly. When he saw a tinge of fear in his heir's eyes, Voldemort strengthened his Occlumancy shield and focused on blocking all of his negative emotions. The boy was always capable of riling him up even with the simplest questions. "If you wish, we can save this discussion for another day," he grounded out through his teeth, trying his best to sound generous.

Alex nodded hesitantly, but remained silent.

"Well?" snapped Voldemort after a moment of silence, "Are you going to answer my question?"

Alex blinked in confusion. "Which...which question?" he asked blankly. "We talked about a lot of stuff."

"Your studies," his father prompted, as the tension in the room lessened.

"Oh." Alex rubbed chin thoughtfully. "Well, it_ is_ the truth, what I said earlier about wanting to learn_ everything_. I mean, I plan on studying...well, everything, arcane magic, Auror level spells, possibly more core magic..." Alex paused for a second as he looked worriedly at his father,"...and I was wondering, if it wouldn't be too much of a trouble that is..."

"...if you could find me a tutor of some sort."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"Not that there's anything wrong with your lessons," said Alex quickly, as he noticed his father's quickly darkening expression. "I just thought...that maybe you'd enjoy more time to yourself," he said quietly, "I mean, you've spent so much time teaching me when you could be out commanding your Death Eaters..."

The Dark Lord frowned, but remained silent as he contemplated the idea. It was a risk to involve his Death Eaters in anything related to Alex, especially when the boy was not strong enough to defend himself against such a force. His Death Eaters_ were_ quite power hungry and as his heir, Alex was a threat to their positions. And it would not do for the boy to die. But then again, his lessons with Alex was draining away his time with his Death Eater raids and attacks.

"Foolish child," cursed Voldemort as he glared slightly at Alex. "My Death Eaters would snap your weak little spine in half the moment they meet you. Or within a few months time, you'd meet your end at some 'unfortunate accident." The Dark Lord rubbed his temples, as if trying to fend off an incoming headache. "You are not strong enough; hence, you are not yet worthy of their respect..."

Alex flinched slightly at the last few words, but regained his composure almost instantly. "But...what about Snape?" he asked quietly, as he ignored his father's previous words. "He's third in command of your inner circle, a master of potions, and of course a good dueler. And...on top of that," he said slowly, "I don't think he'd hurt me."

"And exactly _how_ did you come to this conclusion, brat?" drawled Voldemort, as his ruby red eyes glowed with annoyance.

The boy sighed, "Well, for one, he didn't try to curse me the first time we met..." and he _helped_ me, he added silently to himself. "Besides, so far I've only studied the theory part of potions. I won't become a competent potion brewer if I don't have practice. And who better than the world's best potion master to instruct me?" he asked flippantly.

_"To have **Master** teach you,"_ interrupted Nagini as she slithered into the room. Fortunately enough, the only snake in their hideaway was Nagini, since after all, most of the hidden rooms are 'Parseltongue protected' so it would not do for any random snake to open the doors._ "Master is good at potions."_

"But..."

Voldemort glared at his familiar._ "Nagini, I do not have enough time to waste teaching this...child another discipline. Especially one needs so much instruction,"_ he hissed, before pausing for a second."Very well, boy," he grumbled in English, "I will inform Snape about his new position tonight," his lips curled into a dark smile. "Nevertheless, I will still continue your dueling and magic lessons as I see fit...after all, I refuse to have my heir become weak."

Alex suppressed a groan.

"Meet me at the throne room at seven tonight for your lessons with Snape."

* * *


	15. Spy?

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

_The wind is the song of eternity..._

_Anonymous _

* * *

It was approximately a quarter to seven when a darkly cloaked man stepped out from behind the underbrush that hid the 'Hideaway's' Apparation point. Tall and slender, the man possessed a seemingly skeletal appearance. Not to mention, the addition of his unhealthy shade of sallow skin made him look sickly and of course dead. 

He was, but a perfect image of a grim reaper.

The man slowly reached into his robes and took out a silver pocket watch. He cursed softly as he quickened his stride towards the cave, taking care to avoid the puddles of mud and the disgusting creatures that inhabited them. A poisonous looking creature with dull red eyes and mud-brown scales approached him. Without wasting a second, the man waved his wand in a slashing motion and said creature exploded in a small 'poof'. Though despite all of this, he never once paused to view his surroundings. He_ needed_ to get to the throne room instantly...

It seemed like hours as he made his way through the numerous security and identification checks. As it so seemed, the Dark Lord was becoming even more paranoid. A few years back, the only security they had was the 'Dark Mark' identification check; however now, there was something akin to eleven different spells and wards he had to get across. Quickly he checked his watched again, before pushing open the large ebony doors that lead into the throne room and was greeted with...

Darkness.

The atmosphere was stuffy and heavy, with a tint of evil saturating its walls. Unconsciously, he took a step back as the torches suddenly flared to life and flickered dauntingly against the stone walls. This was too familiar...it was almost a recreation of the Dark Lord's torture room. The one in which he and his companions had been punished for the 'Mudblood Incident,' as Nott called it.

"Severus..." hissed a cold voice to his left. "You have arrived."

The man, Snape, turned towards the throne and met the ruby red eyes of the 'monster' who sat there. "My Lord," he greeted as he bent down on his knees and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes. Even so, Snape's eyes carefully scanned the perimeters of the room as if searching for an intruder, or the presence of another Death Eater.

It was strange. Why in the world would the Dark Lord summon_ him_ alone?

Snape's eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of a small figure leaning casually against his Master's throne. Surreptitiously, he studied the figure from beneath his eyelashes. The figure was a boy, and by his size, a child around eight or nine years old. The boy's face was carefully obscured by the shadows...

"Rise," commanded Voldemort, as he eyed Snape with a calculating expression. His lips curled into a dark smile when he noticed that Snape was fidgeting slightly under his glaze.

"How may I be of service, my Lord?"

"Crucio," hissed Voldemort, and flicked his wand towards Snape. He held the curse of a long minute before releasing it. "Did I give you permission to speak, Snape?" he whispered cruelly, as his ruby red eyes flashed angrily. "I have no use for a servant who can not hold his tongue."

Snape dipped his head silently in acknowledgement, knowing better than to contradict his master. He forced himself to remain still when he heard the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini, swept towards him. After all, it would be Gryffindor worthy to show fear in front of a predator, especially one with enough poison to kill him with one tiny bite.

_"I smell fear,"_ hissed Nagini, as she glided over the man's bare hand and felt his flinch._ "He is afraid."_

The Dark Lord's lip curled into a dark smile,_ "Of course, after all...it would not take much to kill one such as him."_

_"Such a foolish human..."_ taunted Nagini as she hissed in an angry tone, causing the man to stiffen._ "And you want_ this_ human to teach my snake-child?"_

Voldemort shrugged._ "It matters not, but he is a very good potions master,"_ he said evenly.

Nagini hissed softly, a more of a snake laugh than a hiss to tell you the truth._ "If you say so,"_ she stated as she slithered away.

"Snape, I have a job for you," stated Voldemort getting right to the point. His Death Eaters had no choice but to obey his will. Hence, there is no point in batting around the bush with them.

Snape lowed his head and repeated, "I live to serve, my Lord."

The Dark Lord's eyes took on a calculating look. "See that you do, Snape," he hissed softly, "Or else I'll make your life hell. So much that you'll be begging for mercy like the worm you are."

The slimy haired man swallowed nervously, but nodded his head in agreement.

"Alex, you may come out now," he hissed this time in a gentler tone. Voldemort placed his hand on the boy's shoulder (almost fondly, Snape noted) and turned his blood red eyes towards Snape. "This is my_ protégé_ Alex," he explained in a voice that booked no argument, "From this day forth, he will be under your tutelage for potions..."

Snape's eyes widened in horror as the boy finally came out from the shadows. It was_ him_, the Mudblood boy that he'd helped escape from Nott's torture. Bloody hell, if only he'd_ known_ back then that he was helping the Dark Lord's favorite...he probably would have let the boy die as it is.

"That is, unless you disagree?" said the Dark Lord coldly as he saw Snape's horrified look.

Snape shook his head quickly in disagreement. "Of course not my Lord," he replied quickly, "I'd be honored to teach the boy. I was just surprised that you chose_ me_ of all people to be his tutor."

Voldemort ignored him, as he turned towards Alex. "I will be back in about two hours for your other lessons."

The boy groaned at his father's words before grinning slightly. "You're a sadist," he concluded as he shoot the Dark Lord a mock glare.

Snape was surprised that the Dark Lord_ didn't_ blow up the boy into smithereens for his insolence.

Voldemort just raised an eyebrows an glanced at the lad. "Two hours," he repeated in a neutral voice, as he ruffled the boy's hair on his way out the door.

The boy _pouted_ in response.

* * *

1 hours 30 minutes later (in the Potions Lab)

* * *

Snape stood over a silver cauldron, his hair falling over his eyes, as a silver cloud of smoke spiraled upward. His long spidery fingers grasped the long ladle and carefully stirred the potion to ensure that it would not become too dense. Carefully, he eyed the boy from the corner of his eye - just to make sure that the lad hadn't managed to spoil his own potion. Much to his relief, a similar silver cloud spiraled out of the boy's cauldron. The boy gasped in surprised, before quickly grabbing the nearest ladle and stirring the potion just like Snape had done previously. 

The boy shot Snape a questioning look.

"We're finished boy...Master Alex," Snape corrected himself, as he backed away from his cauldron and motioned for Alex to do the same. "Take one of those vials," he commanded as he nodded towards the corner of the room where a supply of potion vials dangled in mid-air, "And fill up as many as you can."

Alex nodded and quickly grabbed a few vials and carefully stored his potion inside.

The boy was_ good_, he'd admit. After all, it wasn't every day a mere eight-year old managed to successfully brew a 4th year potion. Especially one that even his own_ Slytherins_ had trouble with. Snape studied the boy's stance and countenance while the lad was carefully ladling his potion. The boy's stance was light and quick, a dueler's body Snape noted grimly. Though that was to be expected seeing as how this_ was_ his Master's protégée. The boy was going to be a force to reckon with when he grew up...

...or maybe even before that.

A shiver crept up Snape's spine at the thought. Such power was_ not_ meant to exist. The boy was merely a_ child_. A cold wind swept against him, as a trickle of sweat dripped down his back. The boy was already_ strong_ as he is. After all, it isn't an easy task to stand up to an entire squad of Death Eaters. Most fully grown wizards would have died instantly...but this_ child_ survived and managed to take down quite a few of his Death Eater squad.

"Sir?" called Alex, as he turned and faced Snape. "Do you need something?"

Snape shook his head slowly. "No, I'm fine Master Alex," he murmured quietly.

"Alex," the boy corrected with a slight smile.

Snape blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he asked incredulously.

"My name is_ Alex_," repeated Alex though this time he rolled his eyes. "I'm not your Master, so it would only be fitting if you did not address me as such." The boy lowered his glaze slightly. "Though, I take it that Fa...the Dark Lord ordered you to call me that, eh?"

The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes at the child's slip up, "Actually he did not," he frowned when he saw Alex rise an eyebrow in disbelief. So the boy was_ that_ familiar with the Dark Lord? "He only ordered me to show you the same curtsey as I would for him."

Alex rolled his eyes, "Ah...and that's not an order I'm sure," he replied sarcastically, causing Snape's lip to twist slightly in amusement. He sighed lightly placed the last potion vial onto the table. "Look, I don't know about you but it feels damn uncomfortable to be called 'Master," he said quietly.

The greasy haired man frowned darkly, before saying quietly, "But as my Lord's _protégée_," he sneered. "You are already_ technically_ my superior," Snape pointed out before smirking, "...at least, status wise." Much to his surprise, the boy tilt his head slight and scowl in annoyance. Obvious the boy was at least bright enough to understand his quip, but not arrogant enough to do anything about it.

Much to Snape's confusion, Alex's eyes brightened before narrowing into a calculating slit. The older man blinked slightly and the boy's expression returned back to normal within a matter of seconds. 'Yes, the lad was_ interesting_ to say the least.'

"So as you_ superior,"_ drawled Alex, his smile growing at Snape annoyed expression. Obviously, the man did not take kindly to the fact that a_ child_ of all people had a higher status then himself.I take it that you wouldn't mind if I simply_ commanded_ you to call by my name." He leaned back against the table and met the greasy-haired man's glaze.

Much to Alex's disdain, the man simply snorted in disbelief.

"Don't be a fool, boy," snarled Snape, as he quietly cast a silencing charm around the room. "The Dark Lord's word is law. And even if you are my..._superior_," he sneered at the word. "My loyalty is first to my Lord and Master before anyone else..."

Alex yawned and tilted his head to the side. "_That_," he said dryly, "...was the_ fakest _speech I have ever heard."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Your loyalty isn't to the Dark Lord," the boy continued, as he boosted himself up onto the table so that he could look Snape eye to eye. "Is it?"

"What are you implying?" hissed Snape, his dark ebony eyes flaring with _ anger_, was it?

Alex cautiously eyed the man and surreptitious reached into his robes for his wand...just in case. Nevertheless he gave the man a disarming smile, that could be said to be slightly predatory. "Oh nothing," he said innocently as he his smile grew.

Snape's glare turned icy cold. 'Was the boy_ playing_ with him?'

"Not that I'm not thankful," Alex continued as drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. To an outsider, or even a Death Eater, he looked like he was sitting casually without a care in the world; however, the truth was that his father had taught him how to_ hide_ his skills, so to speak. In other words, he was in a perfect crouching position and was ready to spring into action at any moment whatsoever. "But doesn't it strike you as a bit...suspicious?" he asked with a knowing smile on his face. "That a_ Death Eater_ of all people would willingly help a so called 'Muggle-trespasser' escape?"

Snape frowned at the boy's choice of words. 'Muggle? Didn't the boy mean 'Mudblood?' As the lad's words slowly sank in, Snape hastily pushed away his thoughts. He could always worry about that later. "Actually, it does not," he hissed harshly. "Though, in the future I shall keep that in mind and feed you to the dogs of hell."

Alex burst out laughing. 'Dogs of Hell?' he thought before falling into another fit of laughter. He shook his head in amusement, "Then what_ is_ your explanation Snape?"

The greasy-haired man glared darkly at Alex, but nevertheless obliged. "I helped you escape because I wanted the glory of catching the 'Mudblood spy' for the Dark Lord," he explained quietly. "By letting you go and showing you how to escape, it would have made it easier for me to scout and capture you later after Nott and the rest of the group had left."

"Ah...so in other words, you didn't want to share the honor of catching a spy with Nott and Malfoy was it?" deduced Alex, with a curious expression on his face. The man was_ lying,_ Alex knew that. There were problems with Legitimacy since no matter how hard you try, you would always_ project_ your intentions or emotions a bit with the memory you were trying to send. And from what he remembered, Snape's emotions indicated that he had genuinely wanted the boy to escape.

"Correct."

Alex sighed, and weighed his choices. There really was not point in pressing Snape for more information. If he had to hazard a guess, he would probably assume that the greasy-haired man was a spy, one of Dumbledore's _glorious_ Order of Phoenix members...just like his parents. Alex mentally shoved the thought away and buried it deeply within his mind. He did not want to think of his parents...

"Alright, I believe you," he said tiredly, as he gave Snape a tired smile. "Though, I am glad that you are who you are," he said cryptically. "After all, I'd_ hate_ to have to find a new instructor after just_ one_ lesson."

Snape nodded. "Indeed."

* * *


	16. Zombies and Warnings

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter. Oh yea, two more weeks have passed.

* * *

Beneath the silvery folds of an invisibility cloak, a pair of golden brown sparkled in amusement as he made his way silently through one of the hidden passageways that he'd recently uncovered. Coughing slightly from the dust, Alex scowled slightly before waving his wand and conjured a bubble-head charm. He sighed lightly as he mentally made a note to scour the library for a book on cleaning charms. 

His father, even with his worldly knowledge on magic, had probably possessed the same level of knowledge as a Hogwarts graduate when it came to household charms. In other words, the Dark Lord knew next to nothing other than the 'basics.' Alex lips twisted into a wry grin. But then again, that_ was_ what his Death Eaters were for. Those_ almighty_ purebloods with their haughty countenance and fickle natures, simply made the best housekeepers.

After all, nothing scared most purebloods more than having insects and other_ vermin_ scampering about.

After all, being stuck inside a_ cave_ of all things, said Death Eaters often cast numerous cleaning and vermin controlling charms on a daily basis. Alex's grin grew, 'fear was always such a great motivator.'

Slowly but surely, Alex slowly crawled through the tunnel while subconsciously memorizing his surroundings. The further he went the more narrow the walls became. The tunnel had become so constricted that Alex had been forced to crawl on his belly in order to make his way through. Idly, he noted that no one probably older than nine would have been able to get this far...

Alex froze when he heard a soft thump echo through the thick stone walls. Mentally cursing his luck, he quickly drew his wand out of his hoister. He paused as he tried to figure out where the thumping noise came from. Had he been in any other position, Alex would have instantly tried to find cover...

...however, in this case, such as plan was doomed to fail.

He was stuck in a tiny tunnel that he could bared move in, nevertheless, run. To put it simply, he was a sitting duck.

Alex stiffened when he heard a soft thumping noise echoing again from up ahead which followed by a squeak. Dimly, he noted that the noise sounded unusually familiar...

Fueled with determination, Alex slowly made his way through the tunnel (mind you, wand first). Had he been a 'true Slytherin' like his Father had wanted, Alex would have already decided to make a 'strategic retreat' seeing as how there would be no possible way to fight in such a constrained area.

But...as of now, Alex was fine with blaming his curiosity on his Gryffindor genes.

Quietly, he made his way deeper and deeper into the tunnel. Alex frowned lightly when he came face to face with a dead end, though by no means a_ normal_ one. A stone gargoyle was making a face at him...abet a scary yet strange one at any rate. Alex returned the statue's scowl, as he carefully traced the surrounding tiles.

He couldn't have come_ this_ far for nothing.

Alex's eyes widened in surprise when his hand came across a hidden switch. 'Jackpot' he thought joyfully, as a the stone tile next to him shifted and opened. His eyes alight with curiosity, Alex crawled towards the opening and peaked in...

...and a wicked smile crossed his face.

The tunnel led straight into his father's private chambers, a place where Alex had only seen_ once_ in his entire stay. If anything, that_ one_ peak into the Dark Lord's private rooms was something that Alex would remember throughout his life. Never had he ever seen a room so..._bare_ of possession. A tall wooden four-poster bed stood intimidating in one corner of the room while a pair of emerald green armchairs stood adjacent to the window. And the books, Alex would definitely never forget that. An army of bookshelves stood silently as they blocked an entire wall off from sight...

Dimly, he shook his head. The room looked_ exactly_ the same as it did when he'd last seen in two years ago when he'd accidentally stumbled across his father going into his room after their dueling lessons. Alex shrugged, off his thoughts as he quickly made a plan...all the while, his golden brown eyes flashed with barely contained excitement.

Alex silently lowered himself down from the hole before landing silently down upon the corner of Voldemort's four-corner bed. His lips curled into a feral smile, as he noticed the large lump that lay huddled without the blankets. Alex stretched his arms out as his he was preparing to dive, before jumping off the corner of the bed...right onto the prone figure.

...and screamed when he say what he landed on.

A large ghoulish zombie sat up as it stared at Alex through a pair of sunken yellow eyes. Alex instantly scouted back as shock overrode his ability to rationalize. The creature made a swipe at him, and he felt hard flaky finger grab him...

"Inciendo!" he cried, as a large jet of flames blew out of his wand hitting the creature head first. Amidst the screams, Alex dimly heard another voice curse softly before he felt himself flung across the room into one of the green armchairs as a jet of water instantly put out his flames.

"Dammit, brat," cursed the voice, a very_ familiar_ voice, "That was my_ bed_ that you just destroyed."

Alex froze in horror as he slowly turned to face his father's furious face. Unfortunately for Alex, his mouth managed to recover before his mind...

"What in the hell was a_ zombie_ doing in your bed!" he blurted out, mindful that his father's ruby red eyes first blinked in surprise before narrowing in anger. Obviously,_ that_ was not what the Dark Lord wanted to hear...

Ignoring the dangers, Alex prodded onwards, "You weren't...you weren't doing_ that_ with it...were you?" he managed to squeak out, though his face was flaming red by the end of it. Though, Alex had to admit it wasn't his fault that he already knew about the 'birds and the bees!' In his old life, Sirus was by no means discrete about his relationships with his various girlfriends.

A look of confusion crossed Voldemort's face. "Brat...what are you..." he paused slightly, as realization and_ disbelief_ flashed across his eyes.

Unfortunately, Alex misinterpreted the spark in his father's eyes for something_ entirely_ different. With a groan, he buried his head in his hands as he tried to process the information. Personally, he would have_ never_ guessed in a million years that eh...zombies...were his father's type. With a shudder, he mentally banished the image that managed to surface in his 'Sirus-corrupted' mind.

"Look brat...I," hissed Voldemort pausing as he tried to gather his thoughts. First of all, what he wanted to know was_ how_ his charge was so...eh...well educated. As well as how the brat managed to come to such a _ preposterous_ conclusion. However, before he could finished his sentence, Alex suddenly launched himself (much to Voldemort's disgust) into the Dark Lord's arms.

"Father," he said quietly, as he gave his father a tight hug. "You don't have to explain yourself. I understand..."

Voldemort's eye ticked in annoyance. "Boy..."

Alex shook his head and buried himself deeper into his father's arms. "It's alright you know? I don't mind who you..." the boy made a face, "...do_ that_ with," he said gently, though he looked slightly green. "You're still my father, and I'll always care about you..."

The Dark Lord's eyes flickered once again at the boy's loyalty, however misplaced it might be. "Alex..."

"...but," Alex grimaced slightly before finally looking up and meeting his father's eyes. "...there's something I want to know."

"What?" hissed Voldemort, his voice tinted with frustration. 'Didn't the brat every_ stop_ talking?'

Alex paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "Eh...is it," he asked hesitantly, as he nodded towards the charred yet twitching figure lying on the bed. "...is that a guy or a girl," he managed to cough out, as he stared determinedly down at the pebbled ground.

* * *

An hour later

* * *

Alex scratched his head as he shot the Dark Lord an apologetic smile. It had taken his father almost an entire hour before he'd managed to convince Alex that he wasn't eh...playing bedroom games with a zombie. Alex flushed slightly, when he remembered his father's furious expression. Obviously the man did not like being interrupted... 

He winced slightly at the memory of dodging a volley of curses sent by his 'dear old dad.'

Nope, Voldemort_ hated_ being interrupted.

His father had_ deliberately_ set up the zombie (which Alex later found out was nothing more than a transfigured pillow) to scare and attack him. Apparently, Voldemort had discovered the secret passage a long time ago and had set up necessary wards that alerted him when 'someone' breached them. And his father had felt Alex's magic when he entered the room; hence the reason, the zombie did_ not_ try to kill him outright.

Alex slumped back against the armchair and gave his father a curious glance. "So, what are you going to do with it?" he asked, motioning towards the still twitching figure on the bed. The boy's eyes widened as a thought occurred to him, "You know, you could introduce it to your Death Eaters?" he suggested gleefully, as an image of Nott and Malfoy running about in circles screaming like a headless chicken. "It would be for a greater good!" he said defensively, when the Dark Lord's glare focused upon him.

"Ah...is that so?"

"Of course!" Alex was quick to add, as he gave his father his most charming smile. "I mean, if you created more of these," he said slowly as a smile slowly lit his face."...it'll...it'll teach them how to defend themselves in a difficult situation!"

Voldemort inwardly rolled his eyes. 'Stupid Gryffindor brat.' Apparently the lad had not_ completely_ forgiven the Death Eaters for capturing him awhile back. Speaking of Death Eaters...

"How are your lessons proceeding?" he questioned, ignoring the boy's previous suggestion. Of course he wasn't going to scare his Death Eaters to death. It would of course do him no good in the long run if all of his followers died of a heart attack.

Much to the Dark Lord's surprise, Alex's smile dimmed slightly before returning. 'Interesting...'

"Well, he's a good teacher," Alex said brightly, as he sat up slightly to face his father. "During our last lesson he taught me how to brew a mild mind controlling potion."

Voldemort stared at Alex with a calculating expression on his face. "That sounds educational," he said evenly, "Did you learn anything else?"

This time, the boy noticeably squirmed in his armchair. Ever since the Dark Lord had adopted him, Alex had a fairly difficult time lying to his father. He cared about the man, hell he even_ respected_ him. However, he did not know if he could turn Snape in as a 'possible' spy to his father. He owned Snape a life-debt for helping him escape the Death Eaters.

...was it right to repay kindness with death? Alex shook his head slowly. But then again, was it any better to lie to one of the few people who have ever cared about him? Steeling his nerves, Alex raised his eyes and met his father's suspicious glaze. "Actually I did," he replied calmly, his face stony.

"Oh? What pray tell?" his father drawled.

Alex hesitated once again. Spies were killed instantly in the most horrible way possible. He did not want that to happen to Snape. The man was a decent teacher, though with a biting tongue. Given time, he was pretty sure that he'd come to like the man almost as much as his...Uncle Moony. He didn't know why, but Snape somehow reminded him of his favorite uncle, through he was unsure of the reason. They did_ not_ even look alike...

But then there was his father to think about.

If Snape actually_ was_ a spy, then he would deliver useful information to Dumbledore and the rest of the Light side. In turn, such information might possibly threaten his father's life. Alex had grown attached to the Dark Lord over the past few years. The last thing that he wanted to do was allow something 'bad' to happen to the man simply because he was too scared to divulge information.

Alex sighed, he didn't like either scenario. So instead he was going to do what he did best, telling half-truths. "There is something that I need to tell you..." he said quietly, "Something that I found out a few weeks ago."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow and waited for Alex to continue.

"I...I think you have a spy in your ranks," he said awkwardly, as he ran his hand through his hair. Alex stared at his shoes for a second before continuing. "You know how I like to explore around the Hideaway?" he asked, waiting for his father's nod. "Well one day, I came across one of your Death Eaters...and I saw him hide a phoenix amulet into his robes..."

"Who was it?" his father ground out through clenched teeth.

Alex's head jerked up in surprise at the venom in the Dark Lord's voice. He knew that his father was going to be_ angry_ that there was a spy, but he never expected him to be_ this_ furious. It was a damn good thing that he lied. "I'm not sure," he said softly, "I saw him near the entrance and it was too dark for me to see properly."

"Do you think you'd be able to recognized him if you see him again?"

Alex shook his head negatively. "I doubt it," he said seriously, "It really was too dark for me to tell."

Voldemort shot a suspicious look at his heir. "And may I ask,_ why_ you choose to withhold this information for so long?" he hissed softly, obviously not pleased with Alex's actions.

"I...I...wanted to find the spy for myself," he explained softly. "You were so busy the past few weeks and I didn't want to bother you with trivial information."

The Dark Lord remained silent.

"You do know that I'd never do anything to deliberately harm you," pleaded Alex, now genuinely hurt. He truthfully_ did_ want his father to be safe. If he didn't, he obviously wouldn't have revealed any information about the 'spy' to his father. "You looked so tired," he said weakly, "And you weren't even eating properly!" he said throwing his arms up hopelessly. "I didn't want you to die from stress or something!"

Voldemort's glare lightened somewhat, but his expression was still hard. "Next time boy, you will report_ all_ of your findings to me," he barked, "...even if it is against your better judgment."

Alex could only nod his head as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Though, I am..._pleased_ with your information," his father added, somewhat reluctantly when he saw Alex's sad face. "It will certainly come in use."

Alex looked up at Voldemort and gave him a weak grin. "I'm glad," he said quietly, as the Dark Lord shooed him out of his bedchambers. He shrugged lightly as he tried to push away his thoughts. He'd informed his father about the 'spy problem' while also managing to protect Snape from a messy death. Alex sighed.

It certainly wasn't easy being a 'Dark-Lord-in-training.'

* * *

Hogwarts

* * *

"Uncle Moony!" cried a voice softly as he made his way through the numerous hallways of Hogwarts. The boy paused as he heard a soft shuffling sound coming from one of the classroom. Said boy had a head full of messy brown hair and a pair of gentle chocolate brown eyes. Unlike most children, the boy carried himself with an air of quietness and understanding. A complete change from the loud and sunny attitude the lad had possessed before_ it_ had happened. 

The day his brother was murdered.

Nate Potter, a youth of six, had grown up slightly after his brother had 'left.' No longer did he smile unnecessarily, nor did he participate in anything really 'fun' as Sirus put it. All in all, he had become more withdrawn since Harry was killed. He did not enjoy pranks at all anymore; instead, he preferred tending the 'Midnight Dream' bush that Harry had given him. And so far, the bush had numerous silver flower buds. Nate's smile widened, according to 'Auntie' Sprout the flowers would be ready to bloom in a matter of months.

...and then, he'd be able to see Harry again.

A soft smile grew on Nate's face at the thought. He'd really missed his brother.

A lock clicked open before a quiet voice inquired gently, "Nate? What are you doing here?" Causing Nate to jump in surprise. "Aren't you suppose to be playing Quidditch with Prongs?"

"Moony!" cried Nate as he turned around and gave his uncle a warm hug. Uncle Moony ruffled his hair fondly, before pushing his away slightly so that he could look Nate in the eye. "Mummy and Daddy want to talk to you," he said softly, as he grabbed Moony's hands and began dragged a bemused Remus towards the headmaster's office. "They said that it's important."

Remus blinked in confusion as he allowed the youngster to drag him. "Did they say anything else?" he prodded, his curiosity getting the best of him. Unless he was mistaken, the next Order of the Phoenix meeting was scheduled to be in a few weeks... A flash of fear crossed his face. 'Was someone hurt?' Without warning, he quickly sped up his pace a bit thought not too much so that Nate could still follow.

"Eh..." Nate scrunched up his face in concentration. "The mean man was there. He was talking with Mister Dumbledore," he supplied with a slightly frown. "They both looked so sad..."

'Sad!'

Without a word, Remus quickly tossed Nate into his arms and sprinted straight out towards Dumbledore's office. 'Sad! What in the hell was going on!' He refused to lose any more people to the war. He_ couldn't._

First Harry...

And now Order Members were dropping like flies. Remus felt his chest tighten in pain. 'Damn you Voldemort...'

"Uncle! What are you doing!" protested Nate as he squirmed in Remus's arms. "I can walk you know?"

Remus blinked as he looked down and stared into a pair of confused hazel brown eyes. "I'm sorry kiddo," he said gently, "But we really need to get to Dumbledore's office right now."

The boy stared at Remus in incomprehension for a moment before his eyes widened joyfully. "Harry...they found him didn't they!" he exclaimed, as he squirmed in excitement. "I_ knew_ that he was alive!" Obviously news of his brother's return was the only thing that made sense in Nate's mind for rushing.

Remus shook his head sadly. "No...I don't think that's the case, Nate," he said gently, flinching slightly when Nate's eyes widened and started tearing up. "But, who knows. Harry might be out there right now waiting for the right moment to return."

"Really?"

The werewolf bit his lip at the hopeful expression in the boy's eyes. Harry was dead..._no one_ was capable of surviving a Killing Curse. 'But...there was no body,' his mind hissed traitorously. There would be no reason for Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters to steal a corpse...

...but, then were_ was_ Harry?

"Yes, I do. Harry will come back," Remus finally answered, as he halted in front of a gigantic stone gargoyle. "Acid Pops," he whispered softly, as the gargoyle jumped aside to reveal a winding staircase. Pausing, Remus put the boy down on the floor and bent down and stared at Nate face to face. "Look kiddo, this is going to be an adult meeting alright?" he said softly. "Will you be alright being by yourself for awhile?"

Nate nodded, but a flicker of hesitation entered his eyes. "If you...if you heard anything about Harry..."

Remus smiled. "I'll tell you," he promised, as he ruffled the boy's hair once again. "I promise." And with that, Remus slowly made his way up the winding staircase, making sure to wave to Nate before the gargoyle closed. And with that done, Remus stared up at the door with mounting horror and dread.

'Please don't let anyone be dead...' he prayed, as he quickened his pace once again.

* * *

"Ladies and Gentlemen," began Dumbledore as he held his hands out welcoming towards the surrounding group of wizards that stood huddled about his office. "While I am pleased that you have been able to come on such short notice, we have no time to dally about," he said quietly as he glanced at every member through the lenses of his small silver glasses. "I have just received information from one of our spies..." 

Dumbledore hesitated slightly, surprising his long time friends with this sign of weakness. The headmaster fingered his ring as he tried to put his thoughts in order. "As you are well aware, Death Eater activity has lessened slightly over the past few years," he said quietly. "Some of us originally hypothesized that Voldemort," Dumbledore paused slightly as he waited for the flinches to subside. "...was trying to muster up his allies. While the rest of us thought that our plan to intervene in Death Eater attacks was successful."

A loud gruff voice interrupted him, "Get to the point Dumbledore," growled Mad-eye, his electric blue eye whirled about the room cautiously. "Why have you called us all here today?"

The headmaster sighed in defeat as he rubbed his temples to ward of his headache. "Voldemort, was_ not_ busy trying to gather followers," he said tiredly. "The reason why the Dark Lord has rarely been present at attacks is because..."

"...because he is training his protégée."


	17. Chess

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

_Nagini hissed contently as she and her master watched their precious snake-child sleep. The Dark Lord had just ran Alex through a marry chase about the throne-room for their afternoon duel. And must to say, the boy did not managed to escape unscathed. _

_"Master?" she hissed softly, and waited patiently for her Lord to finish tucking the unconscious boy back into bed. _

_The Dark Lord tilted his head slightly as he glanced towards Nagini. "What is it?" he whispered softly, his voice devoid of emotion. Nagini noticed with satisfaction that Voldemort's eyes softened slightly when they unconsciously drifted towards his heir. _

_"He reminds me of you, Master," she hissed suddenly, as she lifted her head up from her coils. "He has your eyes."_

_Voldemort scowled slightly at being compared to the boy. "Slytherin's eyes you mean," he retorted, "All those who carry Slytherin's blood have the same eyes."_

_Nagini flickered her tongue at him and gave a snake-version of a laugh. "No, you're thinking like a human, Master," she hissed in amusement. "Look beyond the skin." _

_The Dark Lord glanced calculatingly down upon the sleeping child. Alex's face was twisted in fright as his hands automatically clenched his sheets as if holding them would ward of his nightmares. The boy was a shivering mess. Tired of seeing his heir so frightened, Voldemort waved his wand and cast a few comforting charms on the boy. _

_"Yes, his past and mine are quite similar no?" started Voldemort, as his eyes darkened in remembrance. "Raised and deserted by our blood family..."_

_Nagini dipped her head in agreement. "But you are both survivors," she hissed soothingly. "And that is what makes you and Alex so much alike." _

_Voldemort shook his head. "But, we are not," he stated, "The boy grew up with morals. He is immersed by them." The man paused for a second as he gathered his thoughts. "He will never kill for pleasure." _

_"But he would kill for you," interrupted Nagini as she slithered towards her master. "I can see it in his eyes, even if he refuses to admit it." She paused as she waited for her Master to extend his arm so that she could curl around it comfortably. "He has the same look in his eyes as you did so long ago," she hissed gently. "His eyes are always focused and determined, they are strong eyes. The eyes of a leader."_

**Chapter 17**

"Meeting adjourned," stated Dumbledore, as he waited patiently for his order members to file out of the room. He let out a soft sigh as he recalled the expressions on his fellow Order member's faces. Fear, pure and simple. These men and women were among the bravest in wizarding Britain, and yet such news was capable of obliterating their hope. The war against Voldemort has undoubtedly taken its toll upon the adult population drastically. The headmaster felt a twinge of sadness as he recalled the joyful, happy faces that had once belonged to the somber adults that stood before him today. Alas, how time flew. "And James, Lily," he said suddenly, causing the couple to pause at the doorway. "Would you be so kind as to join me for a cup of tea?" he asked quietly.

Both the Potters noticed the 'no-nonsense' tone in Dumbledore' voice and agreed instantly. "Of course, Albus," said Lily pleasantly, as she turned towards James. "We'll be honored."

The headmaster stood up and beckoned the Potters to take a seat. With a slightly smile, Dumbledore drew his wand and cast a few privacy charms and wards to prevent anyone else from overhearing. The three of them sat in a comfortable silence as they each tried to gather their thoughts.

"Tell me James, Lily," the headmaster said quietly, "What do you think about our...recent discovery?"

James ran his hand through his hair in frustration, before grinning slightly. "Well, I do say that I never imagined Vo...Voldemort was a fatherly type."

Dumbledore's lip twitched in amusement. "Yes, I do so agree myself. " He had known Voldemort since he was a child, when he was nothing more than a partially harmless student by the name of Tom Riddle. And even back_ then_ he couldn't have pictured Tom trying to take care of a child.

It just wasn't right.

"And I am also curious, Albus," continued James with a confused glint in his eyes. "Voldemort's protégé, did you find out who he is?" Seeing the headmaster's twinkling blue eyes, James realized that he must have mentioned something that Dumbledore himself was wondering about. "I mean, he...he couldn't_ really_ be Voldemort's son," stuttered James, as he shivered slightly at the image that encompassed his mind. "He's...he's too_ old_ to do_ that_ anymore," he blurted out, looking distinctly horrified and embarrassed.

Dumbledore chuckled softly at James's horrified expression. "Ah, I figured as much," he said looking dimly amused. However, almost as quickly as it came, his face turned somber. "Though I suppose such information would do us little good, seeing as how the child could be_ anyone's._"

Lily, who had been sitting silently through the entire meeting, turned and faced Dumbledore. "No, it can't," she interrupted quietly, "Voldemort_ hates_ Muggles and Muggleborns with all his heart. He would never take in a child with Muggle blood, so I suppose we can limit the child to being a pureblood. And probably one from a Darker family, since a Light family would_ never_ abandon their kin."

James nodded his head in agreement as he slipped a arm around his wife's waist. "That's right!" he said proudly, "Voldemort's protégé is most likely a Death Eater's spawn." He gave Lily a warm smile, before turning towards Dumbledore.

"While you may be correct," said Dumbledore slowly, "I don't think it would be wise to eliminate all of our choices." When the Lily looked questioningly at him, he explained, "Voldemort might have captured the boy from a Light pureblood family."

James snorted.

The headmaster glazed solemnly through his silver frame glasses at James. "While you may think differently James," Dumbledore said quietly. "I know Tom Riddle well enough to consider other choices. Voldemort is obsessed with power and he will do everything in his power to obtain it. Even to go as far as to steal a child from a Light family and raise it as his own heir, just so that he could control the boy."

Lily pursed her lips worriedly, as she processed the new information. "But then, I suppose we should also check the records at the Ministry for destroyed Light families who had a child around the boy's age."

Beside her, James sighed. "That's impossible, Lils," he said gently, "Too many Light pureblood families have been destroyed over the past decade for us to pinpoint_ who_ the boy is." He gave his wife a warm hug, "Thought, I have to admit that_ was_ a smashing idea, luve."

"Oh, don't 'luve' me," complained Lily, "You only call me that when you're about to do something dangerous or stupid."

Dumbledore smiled at the couple's antics, he coughed loudly to gain their attention. "I will take your ideas into consideration," he said kindly, as he shot the couple a smile. "However, there is something a need to talk to you two about," he paused for a second, before continuing, "With Voldemort as well as his new Protégé to contend with, I urge you both to return back into hiding."

Both Lily and James flinched at those words.

"Your son, Nate is the prophecy child," continued Dumbledore, ignoring the Potter's fearful glances. "And Voldemort has already heard_ part_ of the prophecy, he will not rest until your son is dead." The headmaster shook his head sadly, "You two are not safe enough in your current estate. Voldemort could easily overcome the wards...yes, even the ones that I set up."

"What!" screamed James, as he jumped to his feet. "You told me it was safe!"

Dumbledore shook his head as he let out a sigh, "Forgive me James. It is an Old Man's mistake," he said quietly, as he twisted his ring idly. "Voldemort has been growing stronger and stronger over the past few months. And now..." he trailed off.

"Albus?"

"...he is much stronger than I."

This time, it was Lily's turn to gap. "Impossible!" she stuttered out, "But you're the strongest wizard in the world!"

The headmaster shook his head sadly. "I am old and my magic has started to dwindle, while Voldemort is still in his prime. If given the chance, I do not believe that I will be able to defeat Tom." Dumbledore sighed and shook himself out of his gloom. "But, now is not the time to discuss this," he said gently. "It is Nate's destiny to destroy Voldemort. And it would be in our best interest if you went into hiding."

Lost for words, James dipped his head respectfully. "We'll need time to think this over."

"Of course."

* * *

A/N: I do NOT have a chessboard w/ me rite now so I'm just going ta make up moves, alright? -

* * *

Alex yawned widely as he stared down at the checkered board, waiting languidly for his opponent to make the next move. Warily he cranked an eye open tiredly. 'This is boring...' Since he had finished his potion assignment earlier, Alex had pretty much_ begged_ his professor play a game with him. Any game actually...ah...how he regretted his words. 

As far as he was concerned chess is pretty much the_ lamest_ game in the entire world. Manipulation was fine and dandy, but learning how to manipulate was not something he found particularly fascinating. Alex grimaced at the thought. At the moment he just didn't have the patience. Chess games always took forever!

"Bishop to F4," Alex said in a monotone voice, as he forced himself to sit up. 'Slouching is not proper,' his father's voice whispered menacingly in his mind. 'Bloody aristocrats,' he cursed in reply.

Snape peered down his large hook nose at the chessboard before scowling. At first glance the boy's moves looked too spontaneous and random, the typical strategy of a child. However, after a few minutes into the game, he was ready to consider the alternative. The boy managed to counter his moves perfectly, though abet a tad awkwardly. And Snape had learned over his lifetime that the most dangerous opponents were seemingly unpredictable moves, but actually had a method to their madness.

"King to D2," he commanded, watching attentively as his black king moved to its designated spot. Snape's eye twitched in annoyance when he saw the boy suppress another yawn and scratch his face in boredom. Was Alex_ trying_ to act stupid! "It's your move boy," he snapped.

"Yea yea...I know," the boy waved his hand dismissively as he glanced down at the board for a second before moving his queen. "Queen to F8," he said calmly, his golden brown eyes glazed with boredom. Chess_ was_ boring...just plain boring. What was the_ point_ of planning out your moves in advance? It was common sense that even the best plan was doomed to fail.

To him, it was best to plan as you go along.

Alex suppressed a grin as his father's face surfaced. The Dark Lord had once again blamed Alex's bouts of spontaneity on his partial Gryffindor nature and this time on his age as well. His father has determined to alter his thinking and make it more 'Slytherin dominant' by the time he was well into his teenage years. Hence the daily chess games with his father...and truth be told, Snape was a neophyte compared to his father where chess was concerned.

"Check," grumbled Snape as he took Alex's rook.

The boy stuck out his tongue in response. He glanced down at the chessboard and frowned, before taking Snape's queen. "Check," he announced smiling at his professor's frustrated expression. Alex winced sympathetically, it definitely must not be easy for an adult to admit defeat to a boy of eight.

Snape moved his King aside.

"Knight to B7," commanded Alex, as he watched the piece destroy one of Snape's pawns. "Check."

The potion master glared, "Bishop to B7," he all but snarled. And at that, Snape took the boy's knight.

Alex' smile grew wider, "Rook to B6," he said quietly, as he looked up at Snape for the first time since the game began. "Checkmate," he announced happily, as he leaned back against his chair. Finally it was_ over!_

This time Snape snarled for real. The child, an eight or nine year old, managed to beat him in chess! It was...insane. Though he knew that he wasn't a master at the game, Snape prided himself in his ability to strategize. Hell, the only person who had ever defeated him in a game was_ Dumbledore_!

Who_ was_ this boy?

"You have to answer one of my questions truthfully now," Alex said giddy with excitement. "You gave an unbreakable oath after all."

His teacher groaned at the prospect. When the child had placed the stakes, Snape believed that it would be more beneficial for him. After all, there was no way that he would lose to a_ child_. The stakes were simple, both of them had to take an unbreakable oath to truthfully answer any_ one_ question that the winner deigned. And Snape, who had been certain of his victory, was planning on discovering the boy's past...

But now...

His fate was in the hands of an eight year old. The thought alone made his blood go cold. And not just any child either, but the Dark Lord's protégé. And if the child wished to question him about his loyalty, Snape knew that he was doomed for he was bound to answer truthfully.

Snape's lips twisted into a cruel smile. If he was going to die, he wasn't going alone. He'd take as many Death Eaters as possible down with him. After all, misery loves company. He paused for a second, as he shot the boy an evaluating glance. If given the chance, would he actually_ kill_ the boy? As much as he hated to admit it, the boy had talent. Alex was witty, fascinating, and intelligent.

Hell, the boy was_ almost_ the perfect student that every teacher wanted.

But...Alex was a threat to the Light.

Alex frowned as he racked his mind for a question. There was no point in asking Snape if he was spy, after all what was the point of confirming something that he already knew? But then again, there_ was_ something that's been plaguing his mind ever since he met his professor. "Why..." he paused, before asking quietly, "Why did you become a Death Eater?"

The man eyes widened in surprise, before returning to its usual glare. "Why do you want to know?" hissed Snape, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "It is none of your concern."

Alex grinned sheepishly at his professor, "For curiosity sake?" he tried, and laughed lightly when Snape shot him another death glare. "No really," he said earnestly, as he propped his arms onto the table and leaned forward. "I do want to know. You're the first Death Eater I've talked to and I'm a tad curious on_ what_ made you join the Dark Lord."

"What makes you think there's a reason?" replied Snape snidely, his eyes dark with annoyance.

The boy shrugged. "Oh nothing," he said innocently. "It's just that I'm fairly sure you aren't into the whole 'let's kill Mudbloods' thing that the other Death Eaters are obsessed with."

"Oh?"

"After all if you_ did_, you wouldn't spend all your time down here brewing potions. You'd be going on raids just like any other Death Eater would," he continued with false cheer, "And of course, you wouldn't have bothered to save me back then."

Snape sighed loudly. "So we're back to_ that_ again," he hissed in annoyance. "If I'd known that you'd make such a fuss over it, I would have let Nott bring you in."

Alex burst out laughing at the suggestion. "And what good would that have done?" he said in between chuckles. "You bunch would have not only been tortured but killed on sight for harming me. Ah..._that_ would have taught me a lesson, no?"

The older man gritted his teeth angrily. 'How he_ hated_ to be proven wrong.'

"Now..." drawled Alex, his eyes bright with anticipation. "If you don't mind, can you just answer the question already?"


	18. The Attack Extra

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter.

_italics past memory_

* * *

_"Father?" Alex asked quietly, as he snuck up behind his father's towering form. He tugged lightly on the Dark Lord's velvet black robes and waited patiently for his father's attention._

_"What is it!" the man hissed in annoyance as he turned around, obviously wishing to return back to his work. Dumbledore was planning something...something big. He could** feel** it in his bones. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with his heir right now..._

_The boy stared back impassively. After all these years, Alex seemed to have become immune to his father's anger. He could stand harsh words, biting snips, but if there was anything that he absolutely** hated** it was his father's disappointment. "I brought you some food," he said gently, as he placed a large plate onto his father's desk. Alex looked up at his father in determination, "You haven't been eating properly," he stated. "The house-elves said the last time you've eaten a full meal was almost a week ago." _

_The man glowered. "I do not need food," he hissed softly. "I can look after myself, Alex." _

_Alex glared back, "No you can't," he argued. "If you keep this up for another few days, you'll burn yourself out! You need to eat and sleep, from time to time." The boy paused as he bit his lips worriedly, "After all, you are still human." _

_"Human?" Voldemort chuckled, as his lips twisted into a dark frown. "No, I haven't been human for decades..." _

_The boy stared at him incomprehensively. Not human? Then what was he? "Are you a vampire then?" he asked curiously, as he noted his father's pale white skin and unusual ruby red eyes. "You certainly could pass off as one," he said speculatively, as his mind reflected an image of one of the Dark Lord's vampire followers. Alex frowned lightly, as he ignored his father's annoyed expression. "In fact, is that the reason we live in a cave?"_

_"No," his father snarled._

_"Then...are you a werewolf?" Alex tried excitedly, as he gave Voldemort a once over. He frowned, "Naw, that can't be it," he said to himself. "You're not hairy enough," he said looking pointedly at his father's bald spot. _

_A large vein ticked angrily, as Voldemort sent Alex his best death glare. Which the boy ignored like usual. _

_"...then, I guess that leaves elves." Alex frowned once again. "But your ears are** tiny**!" he exclaimed. "Though I suppose it is a bit on the floppy side..." _

_Voldemort ground his teeth furiously. 'My ears do not look like a blasted house-elf's!' he thought murderously. "No brat," he hissed, "I am** immortal**," he emphasized, "And I am** not** a creature of any sort. I am an immortal** human.**"_

_"Oh..." _

_Alex blinked owlishly at him. "How do you know your immortal?" he asked curiously. "Did you try to kill yourself or something? Or..." The boy snapped his fingers as the answer appeared in his mind. "...or is that the reason your trying to starve yourself? So you could see if you're immortal?" _

_The Dark Lord sighed mentally, the boy was too curious for his own good. "The answer is NO," he said loudly. "I have not tried to kill myself nor am I trying to starve myself." He glared, as he eyed the boy with a calculating expression. Should he trust Alex with the information? Or should he just send the boy away? _

_"Oh..."_

_But then again, who else could he entrust his soul with? Out of his Death Eaters, the only choices were Malfoy or Snape. And if anything, he trusted Alex way more than any of his Death Eaters. At that moment, Voldemort made up his mind. "Boy, are you willing to keep a secret?" he demanded. _

_The boy nodded eagerly. _

_"Even take a wizard's oath not to reveal it?" _

_Alex nodded understanding his Father's paranoia. Without missing a beat, he reached into his pocket and drew out his wand, "I Harry James Potter dubbed Alex Mortimer, solemnly swear on my life, magic, and blood, that I will not revel or repeat anything that will be said or done tonight." And at that, a golden flame circled around Alex's wand before dispersing. Now more curious then ever, he waited patiently for his father's explanation. _

_"Brat, have you come across the term Horcruxes before?" _

_The boy frown. "I've...read about it somewhere before," he said vaguely. "I think it had something to do with Soul Magic, doesn't it?" _

_Voldemort's lips curled into a slightly smile. "Correct. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul," he said quietly. "You split your soul and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged." _

_Alex's eyes widened in understanding. "So that's how you did it," he whispered. "You split your soul into pieces." _

_"Correct." _

_Much to Voldemort' surprise, Alex's expression went dark. "Make sure you keep the pieces safe," he said quietly, though his eyes glinted worriedly. "If Dumbledore found out..." _

_The Dark Lord rolled his eyes. Stupid brat. "That's exactly what I was planning on when you bound in here and interrupted me," he drawled. "I was trying to find a hiding place for the first Horcrux."_

_Alex nodded worriedly. _

_Voldemort shook his head lightly, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a glowing emerald and silver stone. Waving his wand, he instantly transfigured a long silver and black chain around the stone and passed it on to Alex. "Here," he said quietly, "I suppose it'll be safer here with you," he said half to himself. "Guard it with your life, Alex."_

_The boy held up the necklace up to the light and frowned. "This...is a Horcrux isn't it," he asked nervously. "Are you sure it's a good idea to give it to me?" Alex's hand trembled worriedly. "But what if I drop it? Or if someone tries to curse it off from me? Or..." _

_The Dark Lord placed a hand on Alex's shoulder to silence his heir. "The necklace is spell-resistance, unbreakable, and has numerous invisibility charms, and it is charmed so that only** you** or me and remove it." Voldemort hesitated silently as gave his heir's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Keep it safe, Alex." _

_Alex nodded determinedly. 'I swear it!' _

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Alex stared out his window morosely as he tried to organize his thoughts. His conversation tonight with Snape had caught him completely off guard. After four years of trying to forget completely about his parents, he wasn't prepared to heard about them at all. He...he just wanted to forget about them. Forget about the past. He liked his life as it is_ now_ with his father, as the Dark Lord's esteemed protégé. He didn't want to think about the past...didn't want to feel like a hopeless child once again. Harry Potter was dead...he had died when his parents deserted him. He was Alex Mortimer, heir of Slytherin...

...but, then why did he feel so wretched?

His parents had hated him, had neglected him, and had left him to die. They_ deserved_ the pain, they deserved everything that Voldemort threw at them. But, did they deserve to die? Alex shook his head sadly. He didn't know if he could do it. If the time came, at the final battle, would he be strong enough to point his wand at his parents and utter the two cursed words and kill them? He didn't know. Alex knew deep down at heart, his loyalty lied with his father - with Voldemort; however, a sliver of loyalty still belonged to those from his past. The ones that he'd tried so hard to impress...so hard for them to accept him.

He reached into his robes and pulled out the phoenix pendent that 'Uncle Moony' had given him on his birthday. Idly, he ran his finger across the cool metal as his eyes stared down sadly. And then there was Moony and Nate the only ones who were innocent in this entire mess. They were the only ones from his past that had truly cared about him. The only ones who loved him for who he was...

**Even a small star shines in the darkness.**

Alex sighed softly. As much as he wanted to destroy his past, he knew that he wouldn't be able to hurt them. Uncle Remus and Nate were the only precious ones from his pasts. The only people who were actually kind to him. It would be cruel of him to reward their kindness with death. Or was it?

Would he dare risk it all for them?

What was more important? His life or theirs?

He shook his head warily, as the answer surfaced in his mind. Alex closed his eyes as he leaned back against the soft cushions before fidgeting slightly. Slightly put down, he forcefully pushed away his thoughts on the matter and stored them away. There really was no point in trying to solve something that hasn't and hopefully will never occur.

A dark yet slightly sad smile crossed his face, as Alex's thoughts drifted back towards his discussion with Professor Snape. Though Snape probably wasn't aware of it, he'd accidentally given away his true loyalties when he told Alex about his past. About his hatred for James Potter and his 'Mudblood' wife and how Potter and his friend's continual bullying eventually caused him to take the mark. Snape had wanted revenge, as he so put it, had wanted Potter to die a miserable and torturous death and the best way to achieve that was to join the Dark Lord.

All the while, images flashed through Alex's mind. Images of the past when his father and Uncle Sirus would boast about their escapades at Hogwarts and their most favorite 'test subject' Severus Snape. The one man that his father and Sirus had_ hated_ with all their hearts. The one man that they believed to be a spy from the Dark Side.

Alex shook his head at the irony.

**Molded by your family and friends into darkness. **

The Light side were fools and even now they still did not acknowledge that_ they_ were the ones who created everything - the death, the hate, and the revenge. Dumbledore and his unrighteous Order were doomed to fail one way or another. Darkness and evil were not innate, instead it is caused by those around us. For the Light side to neglect and banish a fraction of 'evil' people from their society, they ultimately created darkness. For there would be no other place for society deemed 'evil people' to go other than the Dark Side. It was their only reprieve, for because of the Light side they were shunned.

Alex glanced down at his shoes. "Protect and forgive," he whispered in disgust, as he repeated the Potter house motto softly. With a sigh, he stood up and flopped back into bed. He drew out a vial of Dreamless sleep potion from his cloak and drowned it down instantly. He didn't want to think of the past...it was done and over. And at that, Alex fell into the comforting arms of darkness.

* * *

_Hogsmade_

* * *

Darren Frazer sighed fondly as he stared up at the shinning stars from the vantage point at the slushy High Street. A gentle breeze blew about causing his robes to flutter slightly, reveling a shinny rosewood wand and a golden phoenix amulet. Tonight was his turn to play watchman for Dumbledore's Order, as unfortunate as it was. Hogsmade was absolutely beautiful at night, and personally he believed that it was a waste of time standing guard. After all, no Death Eater would be stupid enough to attack here...seeing as how Dumbledore was only a few miles away. Using his wand, Darren drew out a long thick cigar and lighted it. 

He closed his eyes as he breathed in and savored the thick musky fumes. And unfortunately, that marked the last time Darren Frazer would ever open his eyes.

"Avada Kedavra!" hissed a soft voice.

With a small thump, Darren Frazer lay eagle spread across the street - dead as a doornail. All the while, a small red light began flashing furiously in Dumbledore's office...

* * *

"Squad A towards the right!" hissed Malfoy, as he lifted his wand up for attention. His dark gray eyes were narrowed with concentration as he directed the Death Eater squads. There were five squads each composed of around thirty Death Eaters each with its own squad leader. "Leave none alive!" 

The Death Eaters nodded as they got into position and began attacking everything in sight. Dozens of killing curses flew through the air, lighting up Hogsmade with an eerie green glow. Screams of pain and terror rang out as wizards and witches tried to evacuate the town.

Malfoy stared about the town cautiously. Things were proceeding as planned; however, there was the chance that Dumbledore and his Order would come and battle. "Squad D, get into position!" he ordered loudly, as a group of Death Eaters instantly scampered away from him and hid within their invisibility cloaks. 'Lets see how you deal with these, Dumbledore' he thought spitefully, as he and Squad D waiting patiently for the man's arrival.

And wait they did.

"Morsamorde!" screamed a lone Death Eater, as a thick glowing serpent and a skull exploded from his wand and hung threateningly in the sky. A few Death Eaters laughed in delight as the inhabitants of Hogsmade screamed even louder in terror. Obviously, seeing the Dark Lord's sign in the sky made the fools even more scared.

**Death and gore for them all! **

Malfoy's face twisted in sadistic delight. Those Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers deserved it all this pain. They were fools for not joining the Dark Lord and Death was the price for their insolence...

He turned away at the sound of numerous pops coming from behind him. A cruel smile emerged on his face, so the old fool had finally arrived...

* * *

**Added...**

* * *

Dumbledore grimaced lightly as he ducked just in time to avoid a particularly nasty jet of green light. Without even pausing, he instantly transfigured and animated a particularly ugly pile of rubble into a stone dragon and ordered it to attack the swarm of Death Eaters. He waved his wand in an arch-like motion and in an instant, a large flaming whip emerged from the tip of his wand. In an almost lazy fashion, he swept the fiery whip across the hoard of Dark wizards. 

Warily, his now solemn blue eyes sought out others from the Order. A pained look crossed his face, as Dumbledore took in the full damage of Hogsmade. So much death...

Bodies littered the streets - bodies of people he'd once known. People that he'd once considered friends. Dumbledore lashed out once again as a wayward Death Eater and his team tried to swamp him over with curses. 'Tom...I'll make you pay,' he thought furiously, as his eyes glowed with power at his promise. 'You'll pay for making these innocents suffer, I swear it!'

It will end - this torture, pain and suffering.

His eyes gleamed dangerously as he began shooting curse after curse with deadly accuracy at the Death Eaters. Dumbledore felt a flicker of hopelessness as more and more Death Eaters joined forces against him. He knew for a fact that he could hold his own against them, but...

...he was getting too old for such wand-play.

Dumbledore sighed as he ducked, attacked and defended himself from the onslaught of spells and curses. A shiver crept up his spine, at the realization.

It would only be a matter of time before he slipped up.

"Albus!"

Wincing slightly as a jet of light scrapped the edge of his cheek, Dumbledore glanced towards where he'd last heard the voice. He frowned lightly, all the while throwing curse after curse, as he noticed a group of Order Members fighting their way towards him. 'What happened?'

"Albus, we have to retreat!" hissed Mad-eye, as his electric blue eye spun dangerously. "There are too many of them! There has already been five severe casualties in the Order and two deaths." He hesitated slightly, before growling angrily, "And not only that but..." Moody was forced to duck as a killing curse flew towards him and Dumbledore.

"But what?"

Mad-eye frowned making his face look even more sinister. "They took Lupin."


	19. Halfbloods and Halfbreeds

**Darkly Treacherous **

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter. Check out the previous chapter! I added a section to it! Please Revew!

_italics past memory_

* * *

**Chapter 19: Dreams Beyond Dreams**

_"Moony!" he cried happily, as he wrapped his small arms around his Uncle's legs. Harry's eyes widened with joy as Moony caught him around the waist and swung him around. _

_The werewolf ruffled his hair gently. "It's nice to see you too Harry." _

_"Missed you," he said shyly, as he snuggled into comforting embrace of Moony's arms. Harry took a deep breath and took in the familiar scent of his Uncle. It had been months since Moony had visited the Potter Mansion, and to Harry it had seemed like forever. His protector was back..._

_Remus smiled fondly, as he glanced down at his cub. "So have I Harry...so have I." He frowned lightly as he shifted the boy slightly in his arms. The boy was too light...almost as if he hadn't been eating. "Harry, how have you been?" he asked gently, as he rubbed the boy's back comfortingly. "Your parents are still taking care of you aren't they?" _

_The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. _

_The werewolf felt a flash of anger towards his two friends. How could they? Harry was just a child, a poor innocent child! Given he wasn't the savior, but still he was family. Remus sighed lightly as he quelled his anger. There was nothing that he could do, Harry was a Potter by blood. And he...he was a werewolf, he couldn't simply try to take custody of the child. _

_The only thing that he could do, was to help. _

_To give Harry a childhood._

_Remus gently lifted the boy onto his shoulder and told him to hold on. "Come cub," he said gently, as he felt his cub's small hands grasp his hair in order to prevent himself from falling. Straightening, he placed a hand on the boy's back just in case.. "Lets go get you something to eat," he said quietly. "Goodness knows you're probably as hungry as a Hippogriff!" _

_The child tugged lightly on his Uncle's hair to get his attention. "Uncle Moony?" he asked softly, his familiar emerald green eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What is a Hippogriff?" _

* * *

**Hideaway:**

* * *

"My Lord," said Malfoy reverently as he knelt before the Dark Lord. "The Hogsmade raid was a success, just as planned. The Death Eaters have infiltrated and destroyed the entire structure of Hogsmade," he paused for a second as a cold smirk crossed his face. "By the time the old fool arrived, Hogsmade was already up in flames. Dumbledore was devastated." 

The Dark Lord's lips curled into an cruel smile - a slightly insane one at that.

Taking this as a good sign, Malfoy continued with his report though proceeding with care. After all, this_ was_ Voldemort that he was talking about. The Dark Lord would curse or torture all of his servants regardless. And really, he had no desire to be placed under torture - after all, his robes were brand new...

He coughed lightly and continued, "Dumbledore and his Order then proceeded to duel with the remaining Death Eaters," he paused for a second. "There was no competition whatsoever. We outnumbered them fifteen to one, and simply put the old fool's precious followers are weak. Their ignorance of the Dark Arts as well as their inability to kill led to their defeat. After all, those idiots couldn't hold their own for more than a few minutes tops."

Voldemort frowned slightly at Malfoy's pronouncement. "What are the casualties in our ranks?"

The blonde winced. "Ten dead and even more injured..." and before Malfoy finished, he was on the floor twitching and screaming in pain. Obviously, the Dark Lord wasn't pleased with the news.

"And of the Hogsmade inhabitants?" hissed Voldemort dangerously as he lifted the curse, giving Malfoy a second to catch his breath. The Dark Lord's ruby red eyes flashing momentarily with power, "Are there any still among the living?"

Malfoy shook his head as a negative.

"Crucio," growled Voldemort, flicking his wand angrily towards the shaking figure. After a long minute of screams, he finally released the curse. "Do not," he sneered darkly, "...make_ gestures_ towards me. You will speak when ordered, Malfoy."

The blonde bowed his head respectfully, before saying quietly, "As you wish my Lord." As his eyes fell onto his robes, Malfoy's respectful smile turned into a disgusted snarl. His_ brand-new_ Gilligan's magically-tailored robes were speckled with_ dust_ and flecks of blood. His lips curled even wider in disgust, blood and dust were_ nearly_ impossible to clean out with magic. It would take at least a dozen spells for it to go away...

Malfoy sighed mentally. 'Guess it's time to go shopping again.'

"Is that all?" said Voldemort, snapped Malfoy out of his reverie.

The man flinched slightly, before regaining his composure. If there was one thing he absolutely_ hated_ it was having the Dark Lord's complete attention. Those blood red eyes were so...cold, that it would make even the darkest and cruelest assassin shudder in fear. Those eyes were fearless, strong, and deadly...just like the man who owned them. Lord Voldemort feared nothing...for he had nothing left to lose.

"No Master," Lucius said quietly. "During our raid, we have managed to successfully capture and detain one of the Order's top members." He paused for a second as he studied his master's expression. "We have placed the prisoner in the dungeons for the time being, seeing as how we thought it would be beneficial to our cause should not a rabid werewolf run wild around the hideaway."

Voldemort frowned thoughtfully, "A werewolf..."

"His name is Remus Lupin, My Lord," Lucius piped up helpfully. "From my research, he is one of the top and most active members of the Order of Phoenix," he paused. "Well, that is of course, after the Potters..." he trailed off warily, as an insane, blood-thirsty glint appeared in the Dark Lord's eyes at the mention of the Potters. Feeling that it was prudent to change the topic, Malfoy quickly reverted back to his analysis on Lupin.

"The man is a_ Gryffindor,"_ spat Malfoy, as if it was a curse. "Though I have to admit, he is probably one of the smarter ones in that fool-ridden house. He always had his nose buried in one book or another at least when..." Lucius's mouth snapped shut, as he realized that he had accidentally stepped back into enemy territory.

The Dark Lord glared darkly. "When...?"

Lucius took a deep breath, before continuing. "When he wasn't consorting with his best friends...Black and P-Potter..."

"Crucio!" roared Voldemort, as his aura flared angrily at the word._ Potter_. The bloody family ranked second on his 'to-kill' list, right after Dumbledore. It sickened him beyond belief that he was related to them, however distantly it may be. He hissed angrily through his teeth as he increased the power of the curse. God how he_ hated_ them! How he longed to rake his fingers through their bloodied corpses and laugh in glory as they died painfully...

...but unfortunately, it was just wishful thinking.

Until the dawn of Alex's sixteenth birthday when he would be officially named Slytherin Heir, Voldemort would be unable to directly attack the Potters. His lips curled in disgust. Seeing as how Lily Potter carried Slytherin blood, she and her spawn were safe from him until Alex came into his true power. Voldemort's eyes flared angrily at the thought. If he sent a killing curse at either one of the Potter, he would be unable to kill them seeing as how he had no 'true' heir as of yet.

But until then, he could at the very least torture their werewolf_ friend... _

"Malfoy," he snapped, as he finally lifted the curse. As he passed by the prone figure on the ground, Voldemort made sure to give the blonde a solid kick in the stomach. "Lift your left arm," he commanded.

* * *

"The linage potion is extremely common in the wizarding world," lectured Snape, his voice lacking its usual antagonism. "During the early sixteen-hundreds, Lady Eleanor Silvanus produced the first ever blood-based potion. This linage potion, as it was later called, is used in order to determine and acknowledge the birthright of a witch or wizard. And in accordance to wizarding etiquette, bloodlines were extremely important. For it was rumored that it was ones blood that carried one's magical inheritance and power. And because of this, Lady Silvanus became extremely famous throughout wizard history..." 

Alex blinked owlishly. "Oh, that seems like a stupid reason for being famous," he said after a moment of hesitation. "I mean, aren't potion masters suppose to invent potions that are actually_ useful!_"

Snape's lip curled at Alex's comment.

"I mean...blood isn't everything," Alex continued quietly, his gaze focused blankly upon the wall. "If your family isn't willing to accept you for who you are, blood-ties or no..."

The dark -haired man's sneer faded slightly at the boy's words, as a calculating glint appeared in his eyes.

"...then, they just simply not worth it," he finished softly. Alex's fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table - so tightly that his knuckles turned white - as his breathing turned harsh. "Blood is useless," he hissed, as an angry glint flashed across his golden brown eyes. "Yes, I agree that blood is useful in some potions and spells; however, a potion created for the sole purpose of determining one's bloodline is _worthless_," he spat.

"Please do elaborate, Master Alex," prompted Snape neutrally, though his mind was spinning. In a way, the boy has a completely different set of beliefs then the Dark Lord. His lips twisted slightly at the irony. The Dark Lord's own protégé was..._interesting_, to say the least. And as much as he tried to deny it, the boy was a walking contradiction. Alex was dark, mysterious, and powerful; and yet, there were times when he noticed a kind of innocence in the child's eyes - the kind that did not belong to a Death Eater child. Snape sighed lightly. But, nevertheless he was not stupid enough to fool himself into believing that the boy wouldn't blast him with an AK given the right initiative. After all, Alex_ was_ the Dark Lord heir.

The boy shrugged lightly, it wasn't as if the information was anything important. "Think about it Snape," he stated solemnly, "Just because a family is related by blood does not mean that they have anything in common other than carrying the same bloodline. One's _family_," Alex sneered, "...has no obligation beyond providing the basic necessities: food and shelter. Some would not give a damn if their child hit the bucket, as to speak, unless the child was the last of heir of their bloodline..."

Alex's eyes focused on Snape for the first time since the beginning of their discussion, and spat, "Blood does not equal family."

The man sighed in agreement. 'Too true.' Snape had also learned that lesson during his life - late in life however. It had taken him years of following in his parent's footsteps, years of trying to gain their respect - before he learned the truth. Family went beyond one's bloodline. Snape frowned lightly as a thought struck him. It was strange in a way that the child was so wise beyond his years. He just couldn't help but ponder exactly_ what_ had molded this child into the cynical, cold figure that stood before him today.

But strangely enough, it seemed almost as if the lad was trying to convince himself of the fact.

Or...

Snape narrowed his eyes as he studied the child.

...was it just a mask?

Was the boy's cold exterior just an automatic defense that hid a vulnerable child? The same child that Snape caught flickers of when the boy smiled or laughed. Or was that the boy's true self? Snape sighed softly. Yet, the boy was a Slytherin. And as much as Snape favored his own house, he was not dim enough to trust them outright...

A thought crossed Snape's mind, causing a small shiver to trail down his spine. Or worse, was the boy testing his loyalty to the Dark Lord by sprouting off nonsense about blood purity? He dearly hoped not.

Alex was powerful by his own right, and would certainly dispose of him should any...evidence arise. And as of now, Snape was unsure who would be the victor in such a squabble. Alex was a child, yes. Btu a child raised by one of the darkest and strongest Dark Lord of the century. Though on the other hand, Snape was by no means defenseless. Raised by a devout Dark follower, Snape had an arsenal of spells under his best.

Especially painful spells, at that.

Seeing as how the boy was awaiting his response, Snape did the one thing that he absolutely hated. The one habit that he'd been graced with thousands of times from his idiotic Gryffindor students - he shrugged.

Or tried to at any rate.

Truth be told, Snape's shrug seemed more like as if he was cracking his shoulders in a threatening manner than trying to convey his indifference.

Alex cracked a smile. It was always mighty fun watching Snape try to act human.

And Snape, seeing Alex's smile, relaxed slightly before tensing once again. The man sent Alex a wary glance. Was the boy trying to get him to lower his guard? He ground his teeth angrily at the thought. 'The slippery brat!' his mind raged. He_ refused_ to lose to anyone, especially not a child! And Snape, did the one thing that he always does when angered, he attacked.

"Are you a pureblood, boy!" he hissed as his dark eyes glittered cruelly, his sharp words sliced through the air like knives.

Alex blinked in confusion.

"Your beliefs seem distinctly...Muggle," drawled Snape, stressing the last word. "After all, for pureblood family is everything. Ah...what is that phrase, blood is thicker than water?" he said coldly, "Not the other way around."

Alex flushed deeply as the insult hit home. Even though he personally did not give a damn about blood feuds, he couldn't have possibly missed the insult in Snape's words. To a pureblood, who prizes their blood above all, the worst thing that you could do is to compare them to a Muggle. He shot Snape a dark glare. And even worse, was for one to insinuate that someone's blood was...contaminated, as to speak.

Alex narrowed his eyes at Snape, who suddenly looked horrified. Almost as if he'd just realizedexactly _who_ he had just insulted.

"Muggle blood? Me?" he sneered, in a distinctly Snape-like manner. Alex raised his chin and glared angrily. "My blood is pure enough if that's what you're asking," he hissed softly, "Though, I doubt you could say the same yourself," he said with a cruel little smile, "_Half-blood."_

The man stiffened at the word.

"Son of Eileen Prince, heir to the Prince fortune," Alex said delicately, as a slow cruel smile, "But also the heir of one Tobias Snape, a good for nothing_ Mudblood,_ no?" Feeling distinctly energized from Snape's furious expression, Alex prodded on relentlessly. "And to think, the Dark Lord's campaign against Muggles would include yourself as well. Half a Muggle, Half a Pureblood..." he said innocently, "...why, according to his words you're only half-human."

Snape shot Alex an biting glare, as if daring the boy to continue. "I am loyal to my Lord's cause," he hissed angrily, "And I will gladly exterminate those_ worthless_ Muggles from the planet."

The boy laughed loudly, abet a tad darkly. "...when you're a_ Muggle_ yourself?" Alex shot Snape a knowing look. "You know just as well as I, if not better, what the Dark Lord will do after he exterminates Muggles." The boy's golden brown eyes flared as an unknown light sparkled in his eyes. He coughed inconspicuously as he pushed aside his memories. "He shall kill them all, half-bloods, half-breeds and all! And with him, the Light shall perish."

Snape felt a flicker of fear and understanding at the boy's words before he ruthlessly suppressed it. His instincts screamed at him to draw his wand and curse the boy into oblivion. Loath as he was to admit it, the child was...dangerous. Too dangerous to allow to live.

Who was this boy? This fearless child?

The potions master glared back unflinchingly at Alex, refusing to allow the boy to win an inch. As feral golden brown eyes met his, Snape felt a trickle of uneasy. The boy was different. There was just no other word for it. Alex was too perspective, too...wise in his innocence. The boy was by no means a reflection of either the Dark Lord or even Dumbledore for the matter being. How...how did the boy_ understand?_

Even Dumbledore, the righteous leader of the Light did not fully understand the reason why Snape had turned his back to Voldemort, to the Dark Side, to his past. The headmaster had assumed that he had turned due to a change of heart. Snape snorted lightly, 'The old fool,' he thought fondly. But, some things did not come as easy. Snape did_ not_ received a sudden calling from the light, nor had he been saved by the kindness and persistence of his old mentor. He had turned away from Voldemort because he was afraid for himself. Afraid of the life that he'd life should the Dark Lord win...

Snape's eyes narrowed as he evaluated the boy beneath hooded eyes. But...if the boy knew what the Dark Lord was like, why did he continue to fawn at the Dark Lord? Did such as future look enlightening to the lad? Or was it something else? With a sigh, Snape cleared his mind. It did not good to dwell upon such thoughts for long.

"That may be the case," he acknowledged quietly, as his ebony eyes met Alex's golden ones. "Or it might not. Only time can tell what the Dark Lord will do."

Alex shrugged lightly at the man's words. "If you say so," he replied just as quietly, his eyes now distant. As his brain tried to evaluate and accept the truth in his words. There were times when he forgot which side he was on. Forgot that there was a war occurring in his own backyard. With his adoptive Father as the leader of the Dark and his beloved younger brother as the prophesized champion of the Light...He jerked out of his thoughts, when he heard a hiss of pain.

Snape was standing stiffly against the table with his right hand clutching his left forearm tightly. "The Dark Lord awaits our presence," he said quietly.


	20. Torn Reality

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By: xxlostdreamerx**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.**

_"italics" flashback_

* * *

**Chapter 20: Torn Reality**

_"Father?" he whispered shakily, his golden brown eyes wide and blotched up with tears. Alex scrunched up his fists as he stared stubbornly at the ground, unable to face Voldemort without bursting into tears. H-he couldn't...no, wouldn't believe what his eyes were telling him. His father was not killer...he...wasn't evil. _

_Voldemort turned slightly from his throne and faced the shaking figure of his heir. Earlier that night, his Death Eaters had just returned from a raid with a prize - a scared, defenseless Muggle family. It was fairly decent catch in his opinion, though obviously not in Alex's. He turned his ruby red eyes and took in the scared look in his heir's eyes and posture._

_The boy was scared of him._

_"What is it brat?" he stated working to keep his expression and tone neutral. Voldemort felt his gut twist as his heir flinched at the sound of his voice. Feeling distinctly angry at himself for caring, Voldemort mentally cursed the universe in general for placing such an emotional child in his care. _

_"Y-you...killed them!" the boy finally stuttered out, and raised his golden brown eyes to glare defiantly into his father's cold red ones. "They didn't do anything to you!" Alex exclaimed angrily, "Why did you hurt them!"_

_Voldemort sneered darkly, as he realized once again how truly 'Light' the child was. The boy, no matter how neglected and hurt he was by his parents', had taken on the Light side's ideals like glue and stuck stubbornly on to them. Even his influence over the past year or so pales in comparison to the brat's sense of morality. _

_"Because they deserve it," Voldemort stated coldly, his eyes unwavering._

_Alex's eyes flashed in anger and hurt at those words. "That's the sort of thing I would have expected my parents to say," he retorted softly. "They ignored me, neglected me, just because they thought I did not** deserve** to be treated in any other fashion." The boy stared blankly down at the polished ebony tiles before speaking, "I was not good enough for them. Not good enough for them to love me, to accept me for who I am..." _

_Voldemort stared at the trembling child, as an unknown emotion flickered across his eyes. _

_The boy grit his teeth furiously. "And they had no right to judge me," he all but hissed. "I am my own person! And I'm damn proud of that!" Alex finally looked up and stared squarely into his father's eyes. "Just because I do not fit into their perfect little picture does not mean they should treat me any differently, or worse, try to kill me. Everyone is different on some level! The world is so fucked up since everyone believes they have a right to judge..."_

_"Foolish child," he chided. "The world is not as black and white as you make it out to be. There is evil - yes," Voldemort stated with a casual wave of his hand. "And as the precious Light's side believes, I am the embodiment of pure evil. But truly, would you, before tonight that is, have considered me evil?" he asked neutrally. "Have you ever hated me or strived to kill me by any chance?" _

_Alex's mouth dropped in horror. "Of course not!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "You're my father! You took me in and took care of me when no one else would! H-how could I hate you?" _

_Voldemort smirked. "But, don't try to deny it boy, you believe my actions tonight constitute as 'evil' do you not?" he all but purred. "And yet, I am not evil," he said, pausing for a second. "...well at least not in your eyes." _

_The boy blinked in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked harshly. "I know that you are not 'the embodiment of evil' but that does nothing to justify your actions!" _

_"And then there is your parents," he drawled, purposely ignoring the boy's words. "They are on the glorious 'Light's' side," Voldemort sneered darkly. "Famed for their capture of Death Eaters, their kindness, their generosity..." he paused for a second as he caught the hurt glance in the boy's eyes at the memory. "And yet, you above all, should know that they are not as 'good' as they are put out to be." _

_"I...I just...," Alex shook his head. "Just get to the point already!" _

_Voldemort sneered at the child's anxious tone. Obviously the discussion about the Potters had shaken up Alex's confidence and determination. It was...almost as if the child feared returning, feared facing his past. The Dark Lord felt a tiny twinge of conscience at the thought. Sooner or later, the boy was going to be forced to face his past - and with it decide the course of his future. _

_"The point brat, is that there is not such thing as good or evil," he said coldly. "There is only power and those strong enough to obtain it. You may think my actions tonight were cruel, and perhaps they were," he said evenly. "However, who are you to 'judge' what is right or wrong?" Voldemort said with a cruel smile as he repeated his heir's previous words. "We are in a war right now, and they," he said motioning towards the Muggle corpses, "...are the enemy. They may not have done anything wrong yet to deserve death; however, whose to say they won't some time in the future had they lived?" Voldemort's cold eyes met Alex's. "Do you not agree with the fact that it is better to destroy a threat before it is fully developed?" _

_Alex shook his head defiantly. "No, I don't! Whose to say they will do any harm! You can't see into the future! You have no proof that they are a threat..." Even before finishing his sentence, Alex knew that he had gone too far. There was a difference between disagreeing with his father and outright insulting his views...and with his last words, Alex knew that he'd crossed the line. _

_"No proof?" Voldemort whispered, as an insane smile grew on his face. "No proof!" he repeated loudly, as a burst of cruel laughter escaped from his lips. He stood up and walked up towards a shaking Alex and grabbed the boy's chin. "Look at me boy!" he commanded, "I** am** living proof of how Muggles are like! They were the ones who made me who I am!"_

_Alex remained silent as he puzzled over his father's words. _

_"Muggles are a bunch of cruel and vindictive bastards who believe too much in their own sense of worth," he sneered darkly, as his eyes turned inwards at the memory. "They believe that they themselves hold the cup of knowledge. That they know the** truth** of the world...and for that they are arrogant. Arrogant to a fault." Voldemort's lips curled into a snarled. "And when the world tosses something at them - something that does not fit into their perfect form of normalcy, they destroy it." Seeing Alex's disbelieving expression, he added nastily, "Why you wonder?" Because they are afraid! Muggles fear what they do not understand! And magic falls perfectly under such a category!"_

_A flicker of horrified understanding flickered in Alex's eyes at the words. "Did they...hurt you?" he asked hesitantly. _

_Voldemort's cruel smile grew wider, though his eyes had lost its glassy gaze. "They tried..." he whispered coldly, "Ever since I was a child they have tried to break me. Tried to destroy the 'freakiness' out of me - tried to destroy my magic." His eyes lingered slightly on a pale silver ring on his finger. "They didn't win," he said softly, as he met Alex's eyes for the first time since the start of the conversation. "For I got to them first..." he whispered almost fondly. _

_Alex couldn't help but feel a shiver creep up his spine at his father's tone. It was times like this that he truly remembered that his father was a Dark Lord. And not just any Dark Lord, but the most powerful one in a century. _

_"I was in my 7th year at Hogwarts then," Voldemort murmured almost to himself. "Back then, during the winter holidays I was forced to return back to the orphanage. Back to my own personal hell," he spat. "They tortured me - the Muggles that is," he said as an afterthought. "They tied me up, cut me, beat me..." he hissed furiously, as his eyes glowed in pain and anger. "I would have died that night, had it not been for this." He held up his hand and Alex leaned forward and caught a glimpse of a thick silver ring around his father's middle finger. "This belonged to Salazar Slytherin - our ancestor," Voldemort stated coolly, "It is charmed to protect the heir to its bloodline at whatever the cost. And it was this ring that saved my life." _

_Alex frowned. "But...why didn't you fight them?" he demanded. "You're powerful! You could have easily defeated them all!" _

_A cold laugh emerged from Voldemort's lips. "At what cost, brat?" he said in bitter amusement. "The Ministry has and always will be controlled may it be indirectly or directly by Muggle-lovers or Mudbloods. And had I actually raised a finger against their precious kin, those idiots would have instantly snapped my wand and shipped me off to Azkaban." _

_"But it was self defense!" _

_Voldemort shook his head mockingly at his heir's naivety. "I was a Slytherin then," he stated neutrally, "The entire wizarding world, save for Slytherins themselves, were taught to hate the entire house. And for that itself, I would have been seen in a harsher light then should a Gryffindor for example for taken to court for committing the same felony." _

_Alex's eyes narrowed in anger. "But that's not fair!"_

_"That's the point, brat. Life is not fair," Voldemort said coldly. "We are all in charge of our own destinies may it be favorable or not. Life is nothing more than a game, in which some players are more talented than others. A game where there can only be one winner," he finished. "And to win, sometimes other players have to be eliminated." _

_The boy sighed softly. Life would be so much more simpler in black and white. _

* * *

**:The Hideaway:**

A black flame torches flickered dangerously overhead as the darkly cloaked men and women popped into the Throne room one after another. Blank white masks reflected the dark sheen of the flaming torches, giving group of Death Eaters an unearthly feel. Atop the ebony and silver throne, sat a lone figure donned in a set of elegant spider-silk velvet black robes with silver trim. A pair of cruel ruby red eyes swept across the sea of white masks with an air of nonchalance.

As Death Eaters they would serve.

And as Death Eaters they would die.

It mattered not to him what happened to his army of blood purists. After all, just like anyone other wizard in the wizarding world - they were replaceable. As one of his Death Eaters died, another one rose to take its place. It was an ongoing cycle of viciousness that existed since the dawn of time. A cycle that his Death Eaters practiced but did not understand.

The jostling for power - for fame.

It was a game that his Death Eaters played on a daily basis. A game that was as deeply engraved in their nature, as forgiveness was in Dumbledore's. The Dark Lord sneered darkly at one of the cloaked figures causing the man to flinch backwards in horror. 'The weaklings,' he thought in disgust. After all these years of service, his Death Eaters should have understood by now that rank was not everything. The higher the rank, the shorter they have to live.

Voldemort paused as he finally decided to address his concerns regarding his heir. Over the past few years, Alex had grown from a relatively quiet and depressed child into a power to be reckoned with. A power that he had not fully tapped into yet. However... was the boy ready yet to face the inner politics of his Death Eater ranks?

The Dark Lord usually turned a blind eye upon his Death Eater's little power struggles; however, this time it was different. Voldemort frowned, as he felt his stomach churn nervously. He wasn't worried...just...concerned. After all, it _was_ a common occurrence for high level Death Eaters to suddenly...disappear. And even if he'd never admit it aloud, he'd grown slightly attached to Alex over the past few years. He did not want his heir to die.

But...

Unless Alex managed to successfully maneuver his way through the sea of Death Eaters and come out on top...then the boy was doomed to an early and violent death. He had learned from experience that his Death Eaters would not serve a master who was weaker then they. Voldemort hissed in annoyance as he felt his headache growing. But it mattered not, Alex should be able to win. After all, he_ did_ train the lad for over the past five years. That in itself should had to mean _something_.

The sound of the grand doors slamming open, shook his out of his thoughts. Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the two darkly cloaked figures heading towards him. One of which was donned in a casual blue cloak and happened to be extremely short and slender. A figure that looked distinctly familiar...

'So...he has arrived.'


	21. Lost Hope

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By: xxlostdreamerxz**

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

A/N: Alex is 9, going on 10. (sorry if I made any mistakes earlier)

* * *

**Chapter 21: Lost Hope**

_To some death many be a blessing, to others it is a vice. Me? I think death is a necessity._

* * *

**The Throne Room:**

Remus Lupin, resident Light werewolf, swore softly as a multitude of Death Eaters apparated in. Once again, he berated himself for being caught. It was during one, _single,_ idiotically-Gryffindor move that had landed him here right in front of Voldemort. He sighed softly, though on the plus side he _had_ saved a new recruit's life.

"Bring the werewolf here."

The voice, that horrendous serpentine hisses, caused his hair to stand on end. A cold realization hit Remus as he pin-pointed the speaker as none other than one sadistic ruby-eyed Lord. Before his mind could even hope to ponder his hopeless situation, a nearby Death Eater clumsily raised his wand and tried to levitate him.

A spell that obviously failed.

Remus had a second's warning before he was flung through the air right towards one of the adjacent walls. Suppressing a wince, Remus clamped his eyes shut and prepared himself for the imminent pain that he would undoubtedly experience from slamming face first into stone.

...only, thank the stars, such a collision did not occur.

Slowly cracking an eye open to make sure that his apparent stop was not some cruel joke, in which the Death Eaters would slam him into the wall once he relaxed. The first thing that Remus noticed was that the Death Eaters had suddenly fallen silent and were staring as if hypnotized at a certain doorway...

"Parkinson, I must admit I am surprised," a young childish voice announced, as he crossed over the threshold. "It has been over a year now and you still have yet to master a simple levitation charm."

Remus, now feeling distinctly curious, craned his neck (as far as his magical ropes allowed) and stole a glance at the newcomer. The boy was dressed in a pair of elegant sapphire blue robes with silver trim and a pair of black slacks underneath. The boy's hood was drawn over his head, as a silver mask hid the boy's features. The boy looked exactly like a new Death Eater recruit, save for the silver mask. There was nothing special about the child, he concluded idly. The boy presented the perfect persona of a wealthy aristocrat, which in Voldemort's pureblood circles was hardly anything to speculate about.

Or so he thought.

As if feeling Remus's glaze, the boy turned to evaluate the newly proposed victim and promptly froze. As Remus raised his eyes and met the boy's startled golden brown ones, he couldn't help but gasp. H-He couldn't place it, but he _knew_ the boy. Those eyes, he had seen them before. And if the boy's behavior was anything to go by, Remus knew that the boy knew him as well.

"Who are you?" a masked death eater roared, as he raised his wand threateningly at the trespasser. "Answer me!"

A slow smirk grew on the boy's face at those words.

A second death eater (bless his foolish soul) stepped outside of the circle and moved next to the first death eater. "You better listen to us," he said as he puffed his chest out arrogantly. "We are the 4th squad lieutenants of the Dark Lord's outer circle! You hear that? We're Lieutenants!" he repeated as he thumped his chest. "So you better answer us boy, if you know what's good for you!"

The boy raised a taunting brow, and yawned mockingly. "4th squad eh?" he drawled, looking distinctly bored. "Then you're no one."

The two Death Eaters faces turned an extremely becoming shade of prude, as their eyes darkened with hate. No one, mind you, had ever insulted them in their face before. Especially not a child!

"You filthy brat," one of them roared, as he lunged towards Alex intending to kill the boy with his bare hands. However, before the man managed to even take a single step; Harry had drawn his wand and woven a number of protection spells about himself. And within the next second, Alex promptly disarmed and petrified both of the offending wizards.

Fully aware of the sea of eyes focused upon him, Alex shrugged lightly as a distinct sneer appeared upon his aristocratic face. "Are all Death Eaters so weak?" he drawled, looking for the first time towards his father. "Or is it just this crowd?"

The Death Eaters froze as one, as they heard their Lord chuckle. "Arrogance will be your downfall, brat," he stated, as he motioned Alex towards him. The Dark Lord leaned back against his throne as a distant glaze entered his eyes, "But by Salazar, what a glorious life arrogance shall lend you."

Alex snorted. "Your confidence in me is astounding," he said dryly.

"But realistic," his father retorted, as he refocused his attention towards his shell-shocked Death Eaters. Placing a hand on Alex's shoulder, Voldemort rose from his throne as all the Death Eaters fell to their knees and bowed. Ruby red eyes swept across the perimeter of the room, causing the Death Eaters to fidget fearfully.

"Bow down and show respect before the Dark Lord, boy!" a random Death Eater cried, looking towards Alex with a mixture of awe and disgust.

Seeing the glint of anticipation in Alex's eyes, Voldemort sighed loudly. His heir had a propensity of driving people up the wall. Shooting a glance towards the unfortunate outer-circle Death Eater, Voldemort deigned it necessary to reign in the boy for the moment being.

After all, it would do him no good to allow his heir to participate in his long-loved game of verbal bloodshed. Voldemort shot the Death Eater another glance. Nope, none of them, save for his inner circle could possibly hope to survive Alex's bitter tongue-lashing with either their pride or life intact.

"Crucio," he hissed, directing his annoyance towards the incompetent Death Eater. Voldemort watched emotionlessly as the man screamed and withered on the ground. After holding the curse for a minute, he released it. The Death Eater laid in a sweaty, twitching heap on the floor, before crawling towards the Dark Lord.

"M'lord, forgive me..." he whispered shakily, as he kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "...It won't happen again."

Voldemort sneered darkly at the shivering figure at his feet. "See to it that you do," he said dangerously, as he drew back his dragon-hide black boot and kicked the Death Eater squarely in the face. The man hissed in pain as his nose snapped and torrents of blood streamed out. "For I shall not be so lenient in the future," he finished coldly.

The Death Eater nodded quickly, blood and all, as he quickly scampered back to his position in the circle.

'Fear,' Alex concluded, as he watched his father instruct his Death Eaters. So that was how his father controlled them. Voldemort projected an image of power and prestige, one that exceeded all those of his Death Eaters, and controlled his army with an iron fist. Alex once again, was reminded of Nagini's words. The Death Eaters were quite power-hungry, so much that given the right incentive, they wouldn't hesitate to stab their Lord in the back (only if they could get away if it of course). A dark smile grew on his face. If that was how the Death Eaters wanted to play it, well he'd just have to show them who's boss.

"My Death Eaters," hissed Voldemort, as he rose from his throne. "Today you shall welcome another into our ranks," he stated coldly, his smile growing as he noticed his Death Eaters shivering. "This is not just any initiation..." The Dark Lord paused as his ruby red eyes swept through the entire room, before returning to the proud form of his heir. A strange emotion tingled in his chest. Pride? A flicker of confusion entered his eyes. What was this feeling? H-He had never cared about anyone else's life before, but...he couldn't deny it. He was proud of the boy. And it was this unexpected emotion that fueled his next words. "...but an initiation of my son."

Alex managed to maintain his impassive mask. Though on the inside, his thoughts were in turmoil. It was strange, but this was the first time his father had truly acknowledged his presence. It felt strange, but he couldn't help the wide smile that grew on his face (which was still hidden by a silver mask). It...he didn't know why, but Voldemort's words made him feel all warm and giddy inside.

His father _cared_ about him.

Whispers broke out at the Dark Lord's words. Many of the Death Eaters' postures stiffened as a dark smile grew upon their faces. An heir? The boy looked no older than ten. He would be easy prey for them.

The Dark Lord paused for a second, as he considered whether he should mention the boy's position. A hint of cruelty spread across his veins, destroying his previous emotions. Voldemort's ruby red eyes darkened. If the boy couldn't survive against the mob of Outer Circle Death Eaters, then he wouldn't last a second against his Inner Circle. He shrugged. If the boy wanted to be his heir, he needed to be strong enough. "Alex will take a position in my Inner Circle," he said coldly, as his ruby red eyes once again swept through the hoard of Death Eaters. "His duties shall be explained to him later on."

The Death Eaters gave their master an innocent smile. 'Let the hunt begin.'

* * *

**X**

* * *

Remus Lupin was in a state of utter disbelief. A son. Bloody hell! A slightly green tinge appeared upon his face, as a thought occurred to him. It was sickening. It was disturbing. It was a thing that would give Remus nightmares for the rest of his days. He had just realized that You-Know-Who was able to _procreate_. 

The thought in itself made him want to hurl.

In his mind's eyes he could see a hoard of mini-Voldemorts trailing after the Dark Lord with cruel smiles upon their childish faces. He shivered once again. The image scared him beyond belief. Remus scanned the room cautiously. Could Voldemort have more than one spawn? Perhaps one that's hidden within the crowd of Death Eaters? He certainly hoped not.

After all, the repercussions would be horrible. An unknown Death Eater who could test the loyalties of his fellow companions with relative ease. Remus's eyes snapped open. _Snape._ What if, one of Voldemort's spawn had caught Snape as a spy? By the Gods, that would be terrible! Snape was the only person in the entire order who possibly save his ass right now. For once in his life, Remus felt himself praying desperately that Snape had been his usual anti-social self and hadn't accidentally given anything away.

"Alex," hissed the Dark Lord, startling Remus out of his reverie. "As a new recruit, I shall allow you the opportunity to torture the werewolf first," he said, as an angry vengeful smile grew upon his face. "Make him pay, boy," he hissed softly, so that only Alex heard. "Revenge is sweet..."

Alex's eyes widened in horror. It was all that he could do to not scream at the injustice of it all. To scream to his father that _Uncle Remus_ hadn't ever hurt him. That the man was the only person who had cared about him back then. The first person who had ever loved him...

...but, he remained silent.

He was in front of a hoard of Death Eaters who, at any sign of weakness, would only be too happy to tear out his throat. Alex swallowed. For the first time, he finally realizing what it meant to be the heir of the Dark Lord.


	22. Broken Dreams

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By: xxlostdreamerxz**

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Broken Dreams**

_Is there every truly a 'right' choice? _

* * *

Alex stared blankly at the ground, as his mind raced for a solution. His eyes surreptitiously darted over to the prone figure on the floor. Familiar golden brown eyes met his. _Scared_ eyes. Alex swallowed the bile that clogged his throat. His uncle was _afraid_ of him. That thought alone made him to go to his protector and give him a hug and reveal his true identity, Death Eaters be damned. He _wanted_ his uncle to know who he was... 

But...

Alex's glaze shifted towards the towering form of the Dark Lord. Was he willing to give up his life with his father? He had a future now. He was loved. He was accepted. Alex's lip trembled, as he forced himself to maintain his cool composure.

Who did he love more?

He hissed softly in response as his mind supplied him with an answer. It was a vile, unwanted thought...but it was the truth. Alex took a deep breath and straightened up, forcing himself to look every inch the intimidating dark heir the Death Eaters feared.

"Very well," he answered coolly, as he met his father's ruby red eyes. Alex paused momentarily and wondered his father would try to read his mind, before quickly dismissing the idea. A few years ago, Voldemort had promised him that he wouldn't invade his mind without warrant. Alex's smile turned lopsided. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. "Do you wish for the prisoner of be alive after this session?"

Voldemort paused for a second, as he scanned the boy's expression. "You may choose," he hissed magnanimously to his heir. "He is your prey."

Alex felt a flicker of hope worm its way into his heart, before he ruthlessly suppressed it. "You are kind father," he murmured politely, as he slowly made his way towards Uncl - no, the werewolf. He couldn't afford to think of the prisoner as anything else at the moment.

_Do not fret brat; emotions are worthless, they are but a hindrance. _

Tilting his chin with determination, Alex's stopped a feet before the werewolf.

_Do not look them in the eyes; it might make you think they are human._

"Werewolf," he hissed in acknowledgement, as he prowled about the still form of his Uncle. His long black bangs trailed down one side of his face, giving him a distinctly sinister appearance, while his lips slowly curled into a dark grin. Alex leaned in slightly. "You have chosen the wrong side," he said coldly, "You are a dark creature. You have lived your life alone; abandoned by those who you so actively support. The Light side does not care about you." A spark of something flickered across his eyes. "A werewolf is a werewolf, to them. A werewolf is not _human_. A werewolf is nothing more than a _monster_ to them..."

Remus's ground his teeth furiously. "You lie," he spat. "They care about me..."

"Crucio."

Alex closed his eyes as his Uncle withered upon the ground, but he held his wand steady. He couldn't afford to give up now. He had made his choice. After a minute, he lifted the curse as he purposely avoided meeting the werewolf's eyes.

"You are a fool, Lupin," he said coldly, as he forced his voice to not waver. "I will ask you again, will you join the Dark?" Alex's eyes filled with emotion. "Will you join your rightful side?"

The silence was deafening.

Remus stared at the child with an inscrutable expression on his face. "If I refused?" he challenged, glancing up at the boy's face. He didn't understand this sudden surge of bravery. Sure, he was a Gryffindor, but honestly, he was more of a Ravenclaw at heart. He groaned once again. Now, of all things, challenging the Dark Heir's words had to rank somewhere high up on the list of stupid things that he's ever done.

Alex's face darkened. "Then you will die," he finished quietly, his voice solemn.

The werewolf shivered at the grim certainty in the boy's voice. For the first time since meeting the Dark Heir, Remus was forced to revaluate his opinion. The boy was no _child._ After all, no child should be able to talk about death so lightly, so _familiarly._ Well, no normal child at any rate.

_"Trained by Voldemort himself in the darkest of arts," stated Dumbledore solemnly. "The boy can kill you all with a glance, steal your identity, destroy your family and all your loved ones." He scanned the sea of shocked and frightened faces before continuing, "From Severus's report, the Dark Heir is unmatched in dueling. He can kill a squad of twenty death eaters in a matter of minutes. He is cruel and ruthless; he has no heart and he has, perhaps, the potential to be stronger than even Voldemort himself..." Dumbledore stood up at this point. "If you ever encounter the Dark Heir, it would be wise to retreat..."_

Remus felt hysteria bubbling up past his calm facade. 'Retreat? Bloody hell, Albus, there is nothing I want more in the world then to run for the hills,' he thought with a wry smile. He was going to die; there simply wasn't any way around that. But, he couldn't...no, _wouldn't_ betray his friends.

He was not dark.

"If you won't torture the werewolf boy," a snide voice called out from the crowd of Death Eaters. "Give him to us. We'll teach you how _real_ death eaters operate." Loud murmurs of agreement met the man's words.

Remus watched with wonder as the boy's expression hardened. A flicker of cold disdain etched itself onto the Dark Heir's face as he turned to face the so called speaker.

"An _ideal_ Death Eater, you say?" Alex drawled, as he easily met the older man's glare. "Like yourself I presume?" Without warning, he flicked his wrist and threw a sharp dagger at the speaker. The older man's eyes widened in fear as the knife embedded itself into the stone wall a few centimeters away from him. "Tell me then, Nott, if you were in my position, what would you do to the prisoner with that dagger?"

Nott sneered darkly, as he regained his composure. "I would torture him, of course," he hissed softly as a faraway look entered his eyes. "Cut his limbs apart piece by piece as he screams for mercy..."

Alex raised an eyebrow.

The man's sneer deepened. "I would carve the dark mark all over his body and then brand it with liquid sliver," he finished, as a flicker of disgust and insanity entered his eyes. "After all, a _werewolf_ deserves is no better than an animal. It is only..._fitting_ that it dies like one."

Remus forced himself not to flinch. _Silver._ God, how he hated it...especially when it was so close to the full moon. The wolf _hated_ silver and to even mention it caused his hair to stand on end. He dearly hoped the Dark Heir was not going to take Nott's words to heart...

"Is that all?"

Remus's head snapped up as a flabbergasted expression grew upon his face. 'Is that all!' he screamed mentally, as he eyed the boy with mounting disbelief. What in the name of hell was wrong with this boy?

Alex continued his prowl. "Is that all you would do Nott? Torture and kill your prisoner?" he asked casually, as he tilted his head mockingly.

"No, I would also cut..."

"Yes or No, Nott," drawled Alex, as another dagger appeared in his hand. He spun it expertly about, watching with a slight smirk as his _companions_ stared at him with various degrees of fear. Daggers, especially the magically kind, were feared by many purebloods. After all, it _was_ the weapon of choice for Salazar Slytherin. "Surely you understand such a basic concept, do you not?" he said casually, as he easily caught the dagger once again.

Nott growled in fury, but restrained himself from attack the boy. "Yes, that is all I would do," he answered softly, pointedly allowing the boy's insult to slide. _'Soon',_ he promised himself, 'Soon he'd make the boy pay..."

Alex rolled his eyes, as he noticed the dark glint in Nott's beetle black eyes. He sighed mentally. Great, _another_ person was out for his hide. Though, he had to admit, perhaps Nott was a tad more...competent than the rest. He shrugged as a slow smile crept up his face as he repeated his favorite mantra. 'If life's shit, you might as well go and screw someone else over.'

"Then you're a fool," he spat, noting with distinct satisfaction as Nott's eyes narrowed with fury. "If that is what a _true_ death eater is like, then I am glad that I'm not one." A slight sneer crossed his face as his eyes swept across the hoard of death eaters. "From your description, a death eater is nothing more than a sadistic grunt," he said easily, as he found himself the object of hate from all the Death Eaters.

Nott snapped. "You little _bastard_!" he snarled, as he drew his wand intending to teach the boy a lesson. Only to freeze in surprise as a flicker of silver crossed his vision. A pained hiss escaped his lips as he nursed a fresh slash across his wrist. His expression was contorted with pure vitriol and fear as his eyes darted between the boy, his wand (which was pinned against the stone wall by a silver knife), and the long bloody cut across his wrist.

"Now," stated Alex, as he purposely turned his back to the fuming Death Eaters (while surreptitiously erecting his most powerful shield) and faced the shocked werewolf. "...have you made your choice?"

Remus's jaw tightened. "I refuse," he declared. "I won't join the Dark, not now, not ever!" The werewolf's golden brown eyes darkened with passion. "I won't betray my friends to the likes of you..."

"Crucio," Alex said calmly, as he purposely cut off his Uncle's damning words. A flicker of hurt and anger tightened about his heart. After a few seconds he lifted his wand, allowing the shaking werewolf time to recover. "As admirable as your loyalty may seem, Lupin" he said coldly, as he stared at his Uncle's shaking figure. "Honor is nothing to a dead man."

A strangled laugh escaped Remus's torn lips. "Honor is all I have left," he whispered harshly, as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

A strange feeling rose in Alex's chest at those words. Had things deteriorated so much that his Uncle, whom had been one of the strongest people he'd ever known, has lost hope? Had the Light side truly fallen so? For the first time since he set his eyes on his Uncle, Alex noticed the thin crisis-cross scars that covered every inch of the man's skin.

"Do you like to cut, Lupin?" he asked mockingly, as his golden brown eyes flared with emotion. Alex teeth bared in a feral smile. "Does the blood arouse the beast in you?" he sneered disdainfully, looking pointed down at a particularly patch of scars on his Uncle's wrist. Alex traced his dagger carefully down his Uncle's neck leaving a thin line of blood in its wake.

Remus's mouth felt dry.

Alex leaned forward, "Do you want to die, werewolf?" he hissed mockingly, as he pressed his dagger deeper into the man's neck. "Cuz' you know I can give you that at the very least, Lupin," he whispered, his voice turning gentle. "I can end it for you if you wanted - all this pain, suffering and agony." His hand shook ever so slightly, as he met his Uncle's eyes. "Do you want me to grant you this?"

Remus nodded, bowing his head in defeat.

Alex's cruel smile darkened, as he turned around to met the eyes of his ruby-eyed father. "Good, in that case, I have made my decision. My Lord, I wish to keep the prisoner alive for a few more session if you please. I want to make him pay..."


	23. Remember Me

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own HP. Btw.

Sorry this Chapter is a little on the short side, I'll try to update soon (which I'd probably be able to do since APs are finally OVER!)

* * *

**Chapter 23: Remember Me**

_"Touch my heart, touch my soul...you have been the one for me."_

* * *

_The shadows flickered softly about the stone corridor as the burning golden flame danced about in all its glory. The wind screamed from beyond the windows, banging, shrieking with all its might...hoping beyond hope that it'd be able to escape. _

_His sharp golden brown eyes, so purposeful and empty during the torture session, darkened with pain and self-loathing the moment he escaped the confines of the throne room. Lifting his chin high, he met the stare of many curious Death Eaters who loitered about the hallway. Keeping his stride firm and steady, Alex swept past the crowd of dark figures and made his way towards his room. A few Death Eaters, humbled by his demonstration, bowed reverently towards him as he passed. Others, arrogant and egoistic, glared and snarled at him like a pack of rabid dogs._

_And Alex, lost in his thoughts, ignored them all._

_He could still hear it reverberating about his skull. That god-awful scream. Alex hastily moved towards the stairs, in one desperate act to find a place to hole up and escape the world. His boots hit the steps one loud thunk at a time, drowning out the mocking laughter and taunts that he heard behind him as the_ prisoner _was brought out. _

_A prisoner that had once been his everything._

_A prisoner who'd he'd once loved with all his heart._

_A prisoner that he would kill. _

_Turning his head slightly, Alex caught a glimpse of gray streaked brown hair and tired amber eyes. His chest constricted, as memories flooded his already weary mind. _

_'He had always been there for me,' he reflected, his golden brown eyes meeting the werewolf's amber ones. ' He took care of me when no one else would; he taught me how to play games; he sang me to sleep every night.' Alex's lips trembled, as a memory of warm arms and a kind voice echoed about his mind. 'He...loved me.'_

_Bile rose in his throat, as another set of memories held him hostage. Memories of the past hour; memories of how he'd tortured the only person who'd loved him from his past. Breaking his glaze, Alex turned abruptly and headed towards the upper landing. Moving towards a tapestry, he hissed a password in Parseltongue and hastily entered the hidden room. _

_What have I done?_

_Alex collapsed into a corner and buried his face in his hands. He was such a bloody fool. Staring blankly at the fading gray stones before him, he tried to make sense of his conflicting emotions. He loved his father, there was no doubt about that. Lord Voldemort, the darkest Lord in a century, was everything to him. His father cared about him; he protected him; he just..._

_...just loved._

_He knew without a doubt that he'd follow his father to the end of the world if necessary. It was stupid, it was sentimental, it was Gryffindorish...but he just knew he would do it without a second thought. Alex glanced down at his blood flecked hands and repressed a shudder._

_But...he didn't know if he could handle the darkness. Try as he might, Alex knew that he wouldn't be able to torture or kill in cold-blood. And he knew without a doubt that he'd never learn to enjoy. It just...wasn't in his nature. Yes, he could kill to protect his father; yes, he could kill in battle; yes, he could kill if ordered to. But..._

_Alex's eyes turned downward in shame and self-disgust. Before this, his victims had been nothing more than the occasional Death Eater or some nameless face. But now it was different. He_ knew _who the prisoner was. Worse, he cared about the werewolf. His nails dug into the palm of his hand, as his body tensed._

_Could he actually kill him? Did he have the guts or the control to stare into Uncle Re- the werewolf's eyes and release the killing curse point-black?_

_Alex bowed his head in shame as his mind readily supplied the answer._

_No. He couldn't._

_He was too weak._

_Too tied up by his past._

_A bitter half-mad laugh escaped his lips at the realization. Gods, what was wrong with him? He had sworn then, the day his father took him in, to dedicate his life to serving the dark. He had promised to relinquish all hold of his past; he had surrendered everything then._

_Or so he'd thought._

_He was still stuck with one foot in two different worlds. He still had yet to realize that his past and his life now were interconnected. While he may be Alex Mortimer, heir to the Dark Lord...he was still Harry Potter, brother of the boy-who-lived and neglected child of the famed Potter family. _

_When he'd accepted his father's family surname, he'd foolishly believed that he could successfully bury his past. He had once thought that it was over; that his childhood monsters and saviors were gone. That they could no longer touch his life ever again._

_A solemn tear fell from his face and splattered upon the ground. For the first time in his life, Alex acknowledge the truth._

_He had to make peace with his past...once and for all. _

* * *

Remus weakly lifted his head at the sound of feet scuffling near the door of his cell. A moment later, a loud clang resounded and a darkly cloaked figure entered the room, taking care to close the door behind him. Squinting, Remus noted that the figure was slender and lanky but walked with a firm and stead gait that belied his training. 

There was a short silence, as the two figures stared at each other. Remus gave a start, his body twitching in distress, as curiously blank golden brown eyes met his own. It was _him._ The Dark Heir. A flicker of fear and acceptance clouded his mind.

There could only be one reason why the Dark Heir was here, standing before him with calm, empty eyes.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Remus asked, breaking the silence. The boy gave a start at his words, as if he hadn't been expecting such a greeting.

"Do you wish to be killed?" the boy replied evenly, his voice never breaking.

Remus paused and studied the boy, before turning away. He gave a weary smile, "It wouldn't matter either way would it?"

The boy didn't move.

Awkward silence permeated the air once again.

With clenched teeth, Remus tried to haul himself up so as to lean against the wall. A spark of defiance entered his heart, as he ignored the pain that soared up through his twisted nerves. If he was going to die, he didn't plan on dying at the boy's feet. He would die at least staring at the boy face to face...

A surge of pain burned its way through his body as he jolted his shattered leg, causing him to whimper in pain. Remus hissed softly as he tried to ride out the pain. 'I won't scream, I won't scream...'

He dimly hear the boy murmur something under his breath.

And then as soon as it came, the pain was suddenly gone.

Remus lifted his head, staring at the boy in pure utter confusion before looking down at his now numb leg. His mind was spinning with confusion. "Why?" he asked.

The boy was staring down at the floor, almost as if he was ashamed of his actions. His black hood dipped lower over him, further concealing the boy's face in shadows.

"Why did you help me?" he prompted, knowing that he should have just accepted his luck and not pushed. But...there was just something about this lad. Something _familiar._ Remus met the boy's golden brown eyes and searched for anything that might trigger a memory. He wanted to know who the boy was.

The boy remained silent.

"I..." Remus shook his head, stifling the urge to ask the boy to take a seat. "Who are you?"

The boy tilted his chin up stubbornly at the question, almost defensively. "My name is Alex Mortimer," he said coolly.

"Alex," he tried, tasting the name. For some reason, it seemed...wrong.

Remus regarded the boy curiously. Even though the boy was heavily cloaked, he could see the fine tremors that traveled up the boy's body. Was the boy scared? Or was he angry? He bit his lips in frustration, what was the boy hiding?

After a short silence, Alex bent down and sat in front of the scruffy werewolf. "I have a message for you," he said shortly, his eyes bright with emotion. "...from a boy that I once knew."

Remus nodded, silently prompting the boy to continue.

"He - this boy - was very young when I first met him; he was very scruffy looking, with a pair of sad emerald green eyes. He was always alone," Alex paused for a second as he considered his words carefully. "He was crying the day when I bumped into him, and I had asked him what was wrong."

Remus' eyes were sympathetic.

"He told me that no one cared about him, except his...'Uncle Moony.' He told me that he wanted to run away but he didn't know where to go" Alex continued with his lie. "He asked me to pass a message to one, Remus Lupin, in the case that he did leave."

Remus looked at the Dark Heir in pure confusion and denial. "You can't mean..."

"Yes, his name was Harry James Potter, bother of the boy-who-lived," Alex said softly. "He said that he wanted to leave everything behind. And...he wanted to tell you that he was sorry and that he would always love you regardless of what may happen."

Silent tears streamed down Remus's face. No, this couldn't be happening. He had believed that he'd made peace with Harry's memory years ago. He had forgiven Lily and James for their actions; he had buried his pain and guilt deep inside of him.

And now...all those emotions erupted in a brilliant cascade of pain. Remus buried his face in his hands as his body trembled from physical and mental exhaustion. Gods...it's been so long. He missed his little cub with every cell in his body. He wanted nothing more then to hold his cub and hear the boy's innocent laugh.

But, that was impossible.

The boy was dead.

Gone like a breath of wind.

Lost...forever.

With that in mind, Remus huddled closer into the corner as if hoping against hope that he'd somehow disappear. He couldn't stand it anymore. Physical pain was one thing, but this...this was just cruel.

"Why are you telling me this?" demanded Remus hoarsely. "Why!"

The boy, the heir to the darkest Lord in a century, met his glaze evenly. "Because I always keep my promises," he said softly, as an unknown emotion flickered across in his golden brown eyes.

"Always."


	24. Dark Side of the Moon

**Darkly Treacherous**

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Dark Side of the Moon**

"I can't escape the ghost of you..."

* * *

Ruby red eyes glittered with well suppressed curiosity, as Lord Voldemort eyed his heir with the air of a scientist studying a beloved yet exceedingly strange insect. The boy had been acting decidedly...off for the past few days. Instead of causing mayhem and giving grief to his poor Death Eaters, the boy had instead remained silent and kept to himself, wasting most of his days staring blankly at a small lake near the Hideaway. 

Today was no different.

Alex lay sprawled against an old gnarly willow tree, with a troubled expression plastered upon his face. Ever now and then, the boy frowned and murmured something under his breath. A curse? A spell? Voldemort frowned, studying his heir carefully. He wanted to find out what was wrong with the boy. Alex had never been one for patience, especially that necessary for reflection. The boy was always quick tempered, quick to the draw, and ready to jump into action; the boy had always to a certain degree...been running from his past.

But now, what was to happen now that the boy's past finally turned and reared its ugly face?

Voldemort's lips curled into a frown. He had hoped and believed, to a certain degree, that the boy had surrendered all aspects of his past life. The boy was a Mortimer, through and through, or so he had thought. After so many years with the lad, and so many more training him, he couldn't help but to consider the boy as his own blood...son. It was a strange feeling, undoubtedly. The pride, the wonder, the sheer disbelief that the weak and innocent, bright eyed child he'd almost killed during his Quidditch Arena invasion had grown into such a powerful wizard.

A twinge of pain struck him like a magically amplified blow, jolting him out of his thoughts. Feeling a wave of barely restrained familiar dark magic floating about the air, Voldemort's ruby red eyes flickered with rage before lowering in acceptance. Without pause, he quickly raised his Occulumancy shields and cleared his mind...waiting impatiently for the pain to subside.

And subside it did.

As a Dark Lord, by birthright and by choice, Voldemort was doomed to travel upon a barren and wasted path alone. He had agreed when he'd traded his soul and accepted his birthright and power that he would not...no, could not form attachments. It was the price for power. He could not care; he could not love; nor was he allowed to feel anything but anger and hate. It had been so easy then, when he was younger, for he hadn't cared a rats ass about anyone else.

But then Alex came.

'Bloody brat,' he thought fondly, ignoring the rush of pain that followed the thought. Voldemort opened his eyes and glared darkly at the spot he had last seen the dark magic. He didn't know what had prompted the magic to take vengeance _now_ of all times. For the past few years it had been content to lie back, dormant, while his emotions raged. It hadn't cared that he'd broken his oath _then_...but apparently it was no longer going to turn the other cheek any more.

Voldemort's frown deepened.

"Father? What are you doing here?" a soft voice called out, jolting him once again from his thoughts. Turning slightly, Voldemort was surprised to find a pair of tired golden brown eyes staring precisely at the spot where he was standing.

Waving his wand to remove the glamour, Voldemort stepped out of the hedges and moved to join his heir near the shoreline.

"How did you know I was here?"

The boy tilted his head slightly, but did not remove his glaze from the slowly shifting brackish water before him. "I don't know," he admitted, chewing his bottom lip. There was a short silence before Alex continued hesitantly. "I just somehow knew you were there. Something...told me."

Voldemort eyed the boy strangely.

As if feeling his father's eyes upon him, Alex elaborated. "It's not a voice, if that's what you're wondering," he said with a tight smile. "...it's more like a feeling."

A calm silence descended upon them, as they both sat comfortably beneath the shade of the willow trees.

And then Voldemort lips twitched. "Very good brat. I have to admit I'm impressed."

Alex glanced over for the first time since the start of their conversation and gave a weary grin. "So this...talent of my is actually a real skill?" he said lightly, noting the flicker of worry that flashed across his father's face at his tone. "For a second there, I thought I'd taken one too many Crucios to the head."

His father's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And who was this...ambitious soul who cast them?" he hissed softly, as a whirlwind of emotions and deadly thoughts flashed across his mind. _Someone had cursed Alex. Someone had hurt **his** heir..._

But then, Alex being Alex waved aside his fears.

"No one did it," he said calmly, his golden brown eyes flickering with amusement. "It's just an expression that I picked up."

Voldemort frowned. "And where, might I ask, did you learn that inane comment?"

"Just here and there," Alex said wickedly, stretching his sore limbs. "Your Death Eaters use some of the most colorful language I've ever heard."

_Bloody Hell._

Voldemort glared darkly at his heir. "And I will assume, brat, that you have not taken most of their...comments to heart have you?"

Alex's grin widened. "Oh, you mean whether or not I'll curse as much as drunken sailor on sea-leave every day?"

The Dark Lord raised an impatient brow.

"Well," drawled Alex, as he stroked his chin in thought. "No. I suppose not..."

Voldemort let out a sigh of relief.

"...though, every other day should probably work fine," finished Alex, returning his glaze back to the lake to hide his smile. And for course, from his father's furious glare.

"Brat..."

Glancing surreptitiously at his watch, Alex rose from his seat and dusted his robes. "Err...well, look at the time!" he said quickly, backing away slowly from the angry wizard in front of him. A hundred or so escape plans flashed across his mind, as he gave the Dark Lord his best smile. "I've got to...do my homework. Yes, potions. Professor Snape assigned me a _ton_ of homework," he said with a pout. "I mean honestly, that is just cruel and unusual to give a student months worth of homework at once. Right?" he continued babbling, waiting patiently for his father to crack, and hopefully escape from his imminent lecture.

Leaning over conspiringly, Alex whispered softly. "And...I don't know how to say this but," he took a mocking deep breath. "...but I think I saw something the other day."

"What?" snarled Voldemort, through clenched teeth. _Merlin, didn't the boy ever need to breath?_

"In Professor Snape's hair," Alex said with forced, innocent eyes. "I could have sworn I saw something in there...it was green, it was hairy, and...slimy." He finished, his face scrunched up in disgust. "Do you think it's safe for Professor Snape to continue teaching me?" he said worriedly. "What if his hair gets hungry one day and decides to eat me?" Alex made his lips tremble. "I...I don't want to be food."

In the background, he could hear his father's teeth grinding angrily.

"I mean, you'd protect me right? Just like you promised," he continued, feeling a warm bubbling emotion surge through his body. _It was always mighty fun bothering people_. Alex turned around and gave his father his best puppy eyes. "I...I don't know what I should d-"

"Silencio."

Alex gapped silently before pouting crossly.

Voldemort leaned forward so that he was eye to eye with his heir. "No, there is nothing alive in Snape's hair. Nothing is going to eat you. Hence, I will not need to protect you." He finished, feeling a massive headache approaching. He gave the boy a dark glare.

"Leave. Now."

Alex nodded quickly fled from the clearing. However, when after escaping his father's sight, his face broke into a grin, his golden brown eyes sparkling mischievously.

'And father didn't think I was Slytherin enough,' he thought in amusement.

* * *

**Hogwarts**

* * *

"But Albus," sputtered one Severus Snape, "...I am a Slytherin." 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in delight. "Yes, I am well aware of that Severus," he said kindly, as he motioned for his potions master to take a seat. During the past hour or so, the Order had concocted various plan to spring Remus out of You-Know-Who's grasp. And at last, Dumbledore, the senile old coot, had come up with the best yet dumbest plan yet.

"I cannot go and save Lupin," he repeated in dismay, glaring at the headmaster. "I am a Slytherin, as you so remember," Snape drawled. "Slytherins don't do suicide missions. It just doesn't work that way."

Dumbledore's lip twitched in amusement. "But Severus, traditions are made to be broken."

Snape glared darkened.

"As the Order and I have deemed, you are the most fit wizard to help rescue Lupin," the headmaster continued brightly, ignoring Snape mouthing the words _'You decided, you mean. The Order follows your lead like a bunch of headless puppies._' After all, he knew that deep down Severus didn't mean it. Snape _had_ to have been tormented so by his past; so much that Snape was just being a bastard for show. "As our spy, and resident ex-Death Eater, you're the only one who knows the compound. And...you're the only one who could walk about there and not get blasted with a killing curse."

Snape frowned. "But Albus, traditions aside, you're missing a major point."

The headmaster bit his lips worriedly. "I am?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "I loath that mangy wolf from the bottom of my little black heart," Snape said bitingly. "Even had I agree to commit to this...farce, I wouldn't save that bastard even if Merlin himself rose from the dead and begged."

"Oh Severus, you cannot possibly mean that."

Snape leaned forward and met the headmaster's glaze. "Yes Albus, I can."

"No."

"What do you mean no!"

"No, as in, no you can't. You're our ex-Death Eater," spluttered Dumbledore, giving Snape a sad and disappointed look. "You're suppose to set an example and be a role model for the rest of our future Death Eater reformers."

A vein ticked dangerously on Snape's forehead.

"Albus..."

Dumbledore blinked innocently. "Yes, Severus?"

"...that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," he said deadpan. "I may be...reformed, as you so say" Snape sneered darkly at the word. "But I am by no means a _Gryffindor._ And an escapade of this skill and level would and could only be taken by the lowliest, most..._Gryffindorish_ idiot ever."

The headmaster's lips twisted into a frown. "Forgive me then, Severus," he said tiredly. "I suppose I'm asking too much from you."

Snape nodded sagely.

"After all, you spy for us and teach Potions to our wayward students," Dumbledore said introspectively, as he removed his small glasses and began polishing them. "You've done so much for our cause, and look how we've treated you."

Snape nodded in agreement.

Dumbledore sighed softly. "If you desire, you may leave and return to your duties." He leaned back against his chair and stared tiredly at the ceiling.

"Of course, Albus," replied Snape with satisfaction, as he rose from his seat, his long black robes billowing behind him as he made his way towards the door. However, before he managed to escape, Dumbledore's voice caught him in his tracks.

"Severus?"

With a hint of impatience, Snape paused at the doorway and scowled.

"Could you tell Sirius to meet me in my office later?"

Snape forced down a snarl of disgust. "What do you need that mangy mutt for?" he grumbled, raising his beetle black eyes to meet Dumbledore's tired ones.

Dumbledore gave a weak shrug, before explaining. "Since you are not willing to save Remus, the only person left that would stand a chance is Sirus."

"Black?" Snape repeated skeptically. "You expect _Black_ of all people to be skilled enough to execute this mission?"

The headmaster nodded. "Well, yes," he said calmly. "Sirus is an excellent duelist, quick on his feet, and spontaneous enough to confuse his enemies."

"Yes, but" Snape snorted in amusement, as he leaned against the doorway. "...the mutt is about as good with directions as a drunken avian. I swear, he has no sense of direction whatsoever."

Dumbledore shook his head chastising. "Now, now Severus, I'm sure Sirius has improved over the years. He should be able to handle this mission just fine."

Snape raised a brow.

"Are you sure we're talking about the same person here, Albus?" he drawled. "If my memory serves me right, Black somehow managed to get lost at _Hogwarts_ of all places a few weeks ago."

Dumbledore ducked his head slightly and shuffled a few papers. "Well, he did find his way in the end," he said optimistically. "That's all that counts right?"

Snape shrugged. "If you insist."

Albus sighed, sinking further and further down his chair. "Sirius's heart is in the right place. He would walk to the ends of the world just to rescue his friend." He raised his eyes and met Severus's dark questioning glaze. "It doesn't matter if he isn't the perfect warrior, or the best navigator. He's brave and strong enough to stand up for what he believes in..."

Snape resisted the urge to barf. _'And here we go again."_

"...and because of that, I believe he'll always succeed," finished Dumbledore with a pensive, yet proud expression upon his face. "He is a great man that Sirius Black."

Severus sneered in response. "Enough Albus, I get your point. Black is your favorite and most loyal pet" he said stiffly. "I will contact him for you before I retreat to my quarters."

"Thank you."

* * *

**2 hours later**

* * *

Snape wanted to scream. Or better yet, stomp the shit out of that bloody head in his fireplace and curse it till it was nothing more then bloody pulp. Ebony black eyes burned with hate and disgust as Snape listened his childhood and present nemesis spew out a bunch of nonsense. 

Or insults, kindly put.

"Black," he snarled through clenched teeth. "Dumbledore wants to speak with you. Go away. I do not have the time nor patience to listen to your worthless babbles."

There was a short silence, filled only with the crackling fire.

Angry blue eyes met his. "I do not _babble,_" babbled Sirius, as he gave Snape his deadliest glare. "I speak rather eloquently if I do say so myself."

"Black..."

"But then again, everything must seem like babbling to you..._you_ slimy snake," continued Sirius, his teeth grinding in anger. "All you could do is hiss and hiss. You stupid, worthless, wimp."

Now _that_ caught his attention.

"What did you just call me, Black?" Snape asked dangerously, as a hint of menace crept into his voice. That fool wouldn't have da-

"Wimp, wimp, wimp," taunted Sirius, moving his head rhythmically from side to side like a child singing his favorite song. "Snivels is a _wim-"_

Snape snapped.

He drew his foot back, and prepared to give Black a good hard kick right in his face. However, before his foot made contact, the man disappeared.

"Wha-"

And then, a suddenly as he left, Sirius' head popped back into view. "Haha, I gotcha there!"

"What do you _want_ Black!" he hissed, his eyes turning into hard cold chips of steel. Apparently, Snape's patience had run a tad too thin.

The two men stared at each other darkly for a moment, before Sirius broke the silence.

"Well," drawled Sirius, his expression turning serious. "I want you to tell me where Remus is being held hostage."

Snape resisted the urge to pull out all his hair. "Then go to Dumbledore. I already gave him all the information."

Sirius shook his head, adopting a petulant expression. "No, not that. I..." He paused briefly as he struggled with his words.

Snape leaned forward in sadistic interest. _What is the mutt thinking?_

"I...want you to join our rescue team," Sirius finally blurted out. "Not our team exactly...but rather as back up." He glanced about nervously as if hoping to find an escape, but ruthlessly plunged on. "Remus is one of my best friends and I don't want there to be any risks on this mission."

"Ah...not Gryffindor enough to handle it?" Snape taunted, enjoying his rival's quickly souring expression. "And here I was thinking that I'd never see the day Sirius Black asks a _Slytherin_ for help."

Sirius face was red with anger and worry. He closed his eyes and quickly counted to ten. "Like I said Snape, Remus's life is on the line. And I would do anything to ensure that he is safe." His expression turned even more sour. "Even to the point that I'd...ask you for help."

"What would I gain?"

Sirius blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Snape rolled his eyes. Obviously Black was a few grains short of a dune. "I mean," he said mockingly, "Why should I help? Why should I risk my life for a cause I do not believe in?"

The mutt leaned forward. "This _is_ a cause, Snape," he said harshly. "You support the Light do you not? And by saving a life, you are redeeming your sins."

_The bloody idealistic fool._

"No, Black I will not," he retorted shortly. "Go save Lupin yourself."

_'For I am not as Light as you may think.'_


	25. Beneath the Fading Star

**Darkly Treacherous**

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Beneath the Fading Star**

_Eyes I dare not meet in dreams  
In death's dream kingdom  
These do not appear:  
There, the eyes are  
Sunlight on a broken column  
There, is a tree swinging  
And voices are  
In the wind's singing  
More distant and more solemn  
Than a fading star. T.S. Eliot _

* * *

**Dungeons **

* * *

'Fucking ba-' 

Remus Lupin gave a pained grunt as the Death Eater slowly slide a silver knife down between his shoulder blades, leaving a trail of blood and blistering red skin. Restraining the urge to flinch, he did his best to remain still so he wouldn't further upset his raw wrist by touching his loose silver manacles.

The Death Eater hissed softly in delight as he watched a trail of crimson red blood flow towards the ground. Raising his knife towards his mouth, he licked the red liquid off as his eyes filled with bloodlust.

"Does the little werewolf feel faint?" he asked mockingly, as he made a quick slashing motion with his wand cutting deeply into the other man's skin. "Does it want to play some more?"

Remus lifted his head and spat at the man's face.

The man's eyes darkened with hate, before he backhanded Remus with all his might. "You dare make a mockery out of me?" he hissed, as he raised both of his knives now with the intention to kill, not...play.

"No, that's none of my doing," Remus retorted, hoping against hope that the man would finally free him from the pain. "You're already possess the ideal image of a fool."

The man bared his teeth. "Is that so, werewolf?"

Remus rolled his eyes. What was it with these evil sorts? "Of course," he said dryly, "I wouldn't have said so otherwise would I?"

The man let out a roar of defiance and charged towards Remus, his knives raised and ready for the kill.

Remus closed his eyes as he waited for the killing blow. Images of his past, his life, flashed before him - his first encounter with James and Sirius, their first prank, Lily and James smiling at him as he visited for breakfast, Nate staring up at him with round cheerful eyes, and Harry...looking so sad, so surprised when he received his fifth birthday present. Remus bowed his head in defeat. He had made so many mistakes in the past...but now, it'd finally be over.

Death - black, inky darkness - would cradle him back home...

His eyes snapped open in surprise as heard a the cell door open with a deadening thump. And then, Remus found himself staring into a pair of familiar angry golden brown eyes.

"Crucio."

The Death Eater, who now stood about a foot away from Remus, dropped his knives and fell to the ground screaming.

"How dare you!" the boy hissed furiously, as he stalked towards the shaking Death Eater, taking care to increase the potency of the spell. "He is _my_ prisoner. _Mine._ No one was to harm him unless I gave them permission."

The Death Eater thrashed about violently as blood began to spill from his mouth.

"You disobeyed orders," Alex spat darkly, as he finally released the curse. "Not only mine but my father's as well."

The man trembled in fear, before stuttering out a feeble. "M'lord...I..." However, he quickly fell silent at Alex's dark glare.

"Do you know what the penalty is for your crime?"

"Err...a few Crucios, M'lord?"

Alex gave him a feral smile. "Yes, well, you might think that seeing as how you're a new recruit..."

"Jenson," the man supplied promptly. "Arigen Jenson"

"Right, Jenson," Alex repeated. "But I suppose, whichever fool allowed you in here, obviously hadn't properly acquainted you with the laws and the consequences that you'd face."

Jenson swallowed fearfully. "And what might those be m' lord?"

Alex's bared his teeth and smiled wider. "Why Death of course, Jenson!" he said mockingly, as he began circling the now quickly paling man. "

"But, but I didn't know!"

Alex's eyes glittered mockingly. "Ignorance is not an excuse here at this compound."

The Death Eater bit his lips fearfully. "H-how will I die?"

The boy shrugged. "That would depend upon my father, actually," he said cruelly, watching the Death Eater's face drain instantly of all color. "He has this unusual fetish for torture and likes to make an example out of...fools."

Jenson looked ready to faint.

"But..." Alex gave the man a conspiring grin. "If you give me the names of your co-conspirators, I might consider letting you off with a painless killing curse."

The man's eyes brightened with hope. "Do you really mean it?"

'Idiot.' Alex rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Without a second of hesitation, Jenson began reeling off a few names. "Nott, Malfoy and Parkinson. They told me that there was a werewolf down here and that our Lord would be pleased if I were to set an example of Death Eater conduct."

Alex could help but gape at the man's sheer idiocy. How could anyone be manipulated but such a simple, pathetic, lie was beyond him.

Jenson turned his eyes towards Alex. "Please? Can you do it now?"

Alex sighed and raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra." The idiot Death Eater fell down with a large thump, dead as a doornail.

So...the inner circle was responsible for this. Alex shook his head in disgust. By disregarding his possession and the Dark Lord's orders, the Inner Circle had all but declare a challenge.

One that he had to meet with strength and cunning, or else resign himself to a miserable torturous death.

Alex sighed.

'I hate being the Dark Heir.'

Remus Lupin, honorary Light werewolf, stared at the boy with a puzzled expression. It was strange, you see, that even after seeing and experience the boy's dark side...he couldn't hate him. He knew the boy was ruthless; knew that he would lie and cheat to get his way; knew that the boy was a murderer, and yet, he couldn't hate him. The boy reminded him of someone.

Someone familiar.

"Finite Incantatem" the boy murmured, pointed his wand towards Remus's manacles and chains. And with that said, the chains disappeared and Remus collapsed into a relieved heap onto the ground.

The two of them studied each other silently.

Alex looked away first. "Turn over," he ordered, using his wand to levitate Remus into the air. When the man refused to do as he was told, Alex grumbled and rolled the werewolf over.

"What are you doing?" Remus demanded weakly. 'Merlin, please, not more torture!'

The boy gave him a strange glance. "Healing you of course."

Remus's brain froze at those words. _'Healing!'_

Working quickly, the boy hastily cast a few diagnostic charms before healing the worst of Remus's wounds. Alex frowned as he encountered a few broken bones.

He hadn't covered bone-growing spells yet. And he doubted he could sneak any potions out of his father's lab without getting caught.

"Why are you scowling so fiercely?"

Alex shook his head in self-disgust. "I ditched my lessons last week and didn't learn how to knit bones."

Remus nodded.

There was a short awkward silence, as Remus stared at the boy in mounting confusion. He _knew_ that boy. He had to have!

"May I ask you a question?"

Alex suddenly looked weary, but dipped his head in agreement.

"Why do you serve Voldemort?" Remus questioned. "You could be so much more if you leave."

Alex shook his head in amusement. "Why else, because I care for him. He _is_ my father after all."

Remus shook his head. "But you do not support his ideals."

Alex's jaw tightened, but he forced a smile. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

The werewolf grinned lightly. "Well, you did heal me," he said gently. "Any other Death Eater would have let me rot rather than waste their magic."

The boy shrugged, but remained quiet.

Remus pushed. "Just think about it. If you leave you wouldn't have to follow orders anymore or do anything you don't want to do. You'll be free."

The boy's gave him a hollow smile. "Right...and I suppose the Light side would welcome me back with open arms."

Remus nodded, frowning slightly at the word 'back'. "Why of course! I mean, it wasn't _your_ fault that you turned dark. Voldemort was the one who kidnapped you from your rightful home and place..."

Alex's eyes flared with anger. "I never had a home," he spat.

Remus's eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "Oh, pardon me, did you live on the streets?"

Alex gave him a dark mysterious smile, before turning away. "Don't bother, werewolf," he said almost gently. "My loyalty lies with my father and nothing, not even freedom would make me give it up."

"But _why?_" demanded Remus. "What good has Voldemort ever done!"

Alex shook his head sadly. "What else? He gave me a place to call home._" And loved me with ever fiber of his broken soul. _

Remus sighed. "Very well, even though you insist upon being so stubborn, I...thank you."

The tension in the air was so thick it was almost tangible, as the Dark Heir gave Remus a level stare. Alex cringed as he saw a hint of gratitude and relief in Remus's eyes. 'Merlin, why can't you just hate me?' his mind screamed murderously. 'I am your enemy now Uncle. Why can't you accept that!'

"You've been relatively...kind to me during my stay," Remus continued softly, his amber eyes filled with warmth. "Well, as kind as one in your position could afford to be And while I hold no illusions about my future, or lack of in this case," Remus's lip twitched into a wan smile. "I want to thank you for everything you've done for me."

"No. Never say that." Alex turned away, suddenly tired. "Don't bother thanking me."

Remus frowned in confusion, as he studied the boy's stiff posture.

"...since you'd regret your words tomorrow."

* * *

**Hogwarts**

* * *

'Merlin, we're _doomed.'_

Whilst James was normally an optimist, when faced with such daunting..._things_ before him, it was all that he could do not to burst into hysterics and run out of the room in horror. This was not right. No, this was pretty much as far from right as possibly. It was Wrong, with a capital W.

Here they were the night before their suici- ahem, rescue attempt, and the entire Order was in an uproar. But then again, he couldn't really blame them could he? After all, he _was_ pretty sure he was one of those who'd been scared shitless at the time.

It had started off like any normal Order meeting would. The order members had filed in, neat and orderly as can be, whilst Dumbledore beamed brightly at them. Then they got down to business - or tried to at any rate.

With the rescue mission set for tomorrow, Dumbledore prompted the Order to generate a few schemes of their own. Schemes as in anything magical, scary, or just plain o' weird, that would down a Death Eater in an instant.

James shuddered as he tried to shake _that_ image out of his mind.

Everything was normal for a bit, as Mad-Eye promptly suggested various schemes that they could use to...hurt (kindly said) any badass Death Eater. Then as a collaborate team, the Order had managed to come up with a fairly decent rescue plan. One where they might actually have a chance at surviving.

A chance, just one itsy-bitty chance would do.

James sighed in despair.

And then, _it_ had happened. Padfoot, after being ignored for over a hour or so, was determined to dish in his two cents. Sirius believed, strangely enough, that they needed a 'scare factor' involved with they wanted to complete this mission.

So with that said, he transfigured himself...into _it._

_It_ was very scary. With a large oversized clown costume, matched with an evil grin and blood red eyes, Sirius resembled Voldemort himself. James sighed. And then, the Order erupted with chaos as a maddened Voldemort clown chased everyone around in circles.

And worse, even Dumbledore joined the fray.

James shook his head in amusement. It was just like Padfoot, flapping the unflappable. Why he'd never known that Dumbledore could run so fast or scream so loud.

The idea was just so Sirius.

"Well, Padfoot," he said dryly, after everyone finally settled down. "I suppose that monstrosity of yours will come in handy during our mission."

The Order nodded fearfully in agreement.

After all, if something could scare the shit out of Dumbledore, the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to stand a chance.

* * *

**Hideaway**

* * *

It was a fairly calm, typical day at the Hideaway. The ancient black oak trees, crinkled with age, faltered at the faintest sound of the wind, of music and of magic. Thorny gray bushes littered the area, growing in just the right positions as to offer the death eaters a perfect spot to collapse upon. After all, with so many idiots "practicing" how to duel in such a confined area, it was bout to bring about nothing but pain and misery. 

And, of course, a god-nasty headache to one ruby-eyed dark lord as he watched his army decimate each other right before his eyes.

'Bloody idiots...' his mind snarled with mounting disgust, as he heard, rather than saw one of his Death Eaters trip and fall into one particularly _evil_ looking thorn bush. Voldemort's eyes shifted ever so slightly towards his heir.

"Well?" he drawled, waiting patiently for the boy's response. It had become a game for them, as to speak, as they observed his idiot death eaters; the goal was simple, tear and shred apart anything so unfortunately happened to catch their eye.

Alex blinked, himself out of his reverie and glanced tiredly out the window. "I see Parkinson has yet to learn his lesson" he said evenly, "As much as he loves pain and err...buggering, it is not the best of ideas to get kicks from wild hedges."

"Yes, then are you suggesting tame ones?" drawled Voldemort, with a mixture of wicked amusement and concern in his eyes. That reply had been halfhearted at best, he noted. The boy had been brooding and frowning like mad since he'd finished torturing the werewolf. His ruby red eyes narrowed, as he carefully studied the boy's expressions.

Alex shrugged. "Perhaps," he said with a hint of a smile. "Though seeing as how Parkinson spends most of his time here, I honestly doubt you'd be happy with...white droppings all over our lawn," he finished slyly, just in time to catch his father grimace in disgust. His smile grew. It was always mighty fun to disconcert his dear o' dad.

Voldemort's lips twisted in horror and determination. "Brat..." he said coldly, as he leaned forward over the desk and met Alex's golden glaze. "...if you _ever,_ and I repeat, _ever_ make such a suggestion to Parkinson or any of my Death Eaters of doing _that_ to my lawn..."

Alex blinked. He had been joking. 'Parkinson doesn't...' Alex froze in horror, as images of the foolish pug-faced man appeared before him. 'Does he?' his mind finished weakly.

"...I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Nagini."

The boy blinked once again, at the outlandish threat. Ah...he knew better than that! Nagini and his father wouldn't _ever_ hurt him. Alex grinned in amusement, "I love you too father," he drawled, earning him loud 'bonk' on the head as one particularly large book zoomed over and slammed into him.

"Ow..." he pouted, giving his father a wounded glare.

"Bloody sentimental brat," Voldemort grumbled in practiced response, as he put aside his wand. After all, it would not do for the boy to get a concussion so soon. Voldemort's eyes darkened, as he recalled the _why_ behind that. The boy has one week to secure the loyalty of his eight inner circle Death Eaters, or else die trying.

Hopefully that wouldn't happen.

There was a short silence, as both Alex and Voldemort traded uneasy glances. During their five or so years together, Alex had been surprised to discover how disturbingly similar he and his father actually were. They thought alike to such a degree that it sometimes gave him a weird deja-vu feel; not that it helped when his father voiced his thoughts almost word for word.

Creepy.

However, as his father had quickly pointed out how different their personalities were. Alex, despite all his teachings, still possessed a crippling sense of justice and compassion. Whilst he himself, was nothing more than a dark cruel o' bastard (he emphasized upon the cruel part). Unlike him, the boy _cared_ about people too much; it made him vulnerable; it made him forgive far to easily. It made him too...Light. And it was this characteristic that Voldemort _hated_ with a passion. Loath as he was to admit it, he was...concerned about the boy. He did not want Alex to die, after all...he'd gotten used to the boy's company after all these years.

"I assume, brat, that you have everything planned?" he drawled, peering cautiously at Alex. Voldemort fingered his wand impatiently, as the boy spared him a disturbingly innocent glance. "The inauguration brat! Surely you've given it some thought?"

"Of course I did," Alex retorted indignantly. "I'll...I'll..." A flicker of embarrassment crossed his usually neutral mask. "I've got it all planned," he said arrogantly. "Just you wait and see."

Voldemort sighed mentally, 'the brat probably forgot_...again.'_ He glared at the boy with mounting frustration. What was wrong the brat? Surly he knew what was at stake? Alex had experienced first hand the stupid cruelty of his outer and middle circle. His Death Eaters were _ruthless_; their only concerns were power and prestige...and when something stood in their way, it was usually disposed of in a quick, messy way. But his inner circle was something else entirely. They possessed both the brains _and_ brawn...

"If you insist," he drawled finally, as he fixed Alex with a dark stare with which the boy met easily. Voldemort's lips twitched. The boy was certainly brave, he had to admit. Not many were capable of holding his glaze for more then a few seconds at most. But in such cases as _this_ inauguration, the boy's bravery was undoubtedly going to get him killed. The boy needed some help, but how in the bloody name of hell was he suppose to get past the boy's bloated self-determination and pride? His eyes widened fractionally in realization.

"Let's try an exercise, brat," he suggested, as he moved towards the window. Voldemort eyed swept across the grounds as he searched for a familiar tidy mop of white blonde hair. "Let's review and analyze the weaknesses and strengths, if any, of my stupid pet Death Eaters."

Alex shrugged. "Alright," he said, moving to stand next to his father. "Who's our first victim?'

As if right on cue, Voldemort spotted said blonde Death Eater near the edge of the field torturing another Death Eater. "Let's start with Lucius Malfoy."

Alex titled his head slightly and carefully studied the elderly man.

"What are his weaknesses?"

The boy snorted. "His hair, of course. It's such a god-damn _eyesore_ that any Auror worth his salt would blast it off at first chance."

Voldemort's eye twitched. "I'm serious brat."

Alex pouted. "So was I!" he protested. "His hair is such a distinctive feature that all his opponents would know who and where he is. Besides..." He leaned conspicuously towards his father and whispered, "...I think all that bleach is hazardous to his health! I mean, you never know...he might just collapse and die one of these days."

"And you would be devastated, correct?" retorted Voldemort dryly.

Alex just grinned.

"What else, brat?" he prompted, looking pointedly at the elder Malfoy.

The boy's brow furrowed in concentration. "Well, he does seem a tad too...enthusiastic about torturing," he answered. Alex's eyes narrowed just in time to see Malfoy jump aside as a deadly yellow jet of light missed him by a matter of inches. "He enjoys it so much that he looses sight of his surrounds," he exclaimed. "He is also arrogant enough to believe that all other Death Eaters are too afraid to attack him when his back is turned."

"And..."

Alex frowned, as he watched the blonde retaliate. "And he has a proclivity towards Dark and powerful curses...especially those that expand a lot of magical power."

Voldemort nodded in approval. "Correct. So what would your plan be should you fight him?"

"Uhhh...I suppose I'd just dump a bucket of dirt and bugs on him," Alex tried weakly, as he met his father's disapproving stare. "He's such a nit-picky old man! He'd _horrified._" He grinned hesitantly. "And while he's mooning over his robes, I'd just blast him with a stunner?"

Voldemort closed his eyes and counted to ten. "Brat...that has to be the most embarrassing and stupid tactic I have ever heard," he said gruffly. "If you try that tactic, my inner circle will die of _laughter."_

Alex pouted once again. "But you have to admit that it _is_ effective."

"Yes, but not practical," his father replied. "Try again."

He sighed. "I guess I should get someone to piss him off and then attack him from behind," he stated in a monotone voice. A brief smile flirted across his face, "Or I suppose I could just sic Parkinson on him," Alex said innocently. "Malfoy would be _terrified."_

Voldemort rubbed his temple in frustration. "The first part had merit," he admitted slowly, as if such an admission pained him. "However, for the rest was nothing more than useless, obscene prattle."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Can we move on, yet?" he wined. "Malfoy's _boring."_

"Very well," he relented, as he heard another scream. Looking up, Voldemort noted with grim satisfaction that Parkinson was still struggling to pulled himself out of the bush. "Tell me, brat, what are Parkinson's strengths?"

The boy looked at him like as if he'd suddenly sprouted wings and joined Dumbledore's crusade. "P-Parkinson?" Alex managed to stutter out. "...strengths?"

Voldemort flushed. "Yes. The man may be an imbecile, but he is a rather powerful one."

Alex shook his head in disbelief. "Are you sure we're talking about the same Death Eater here?" he prodded. "The Parkinson that_ I'm_ thinking about has two left feet, thinks two plus two equals three, and can't even cast a simple_ levitation_ charm."

"Yes. The same Parkinson that just so happens to be in my inner circle."

Alex's eyes widened. "God father, I never knew that you were so desperate!" he said pitifully. "The rest of your Death Eaters much be utter_ idiots_ if Parkinson is able to make it into your inner circle."

Voldemort cleared his throat. "Perhaps," he said leniently. "However, what Parkinson lacks in brains and magical power, he makes up in brute strength." He nodded towards the squirming robed figure in the bush. "Tell me brat, have you ever heard about the 'Larito' thorn bush?"

Alex shook his head.

"This bush is nicknamed the 'bloody knife,' due to its ability to cut through both bone and magical spells like butter," he explained. "And for security reasons, many 'Larito bushes' grown around our Hideaway...making it difficult for any spies to get it."

"Don't tell me..."

Voldemort's smile turned feral. "Yes, correct. That bush that Parkinson is squirming in right now is in fact a Larito thorn bush; however, it would do for you to note that the man does not have a single scratch upon him."

Alex frowned. "But how is that possible! You said it could cut through spells..."

"Correct again, brat." Voldemort's ruby red eyes met Alex's golden brown ones. "However, due to some weird twist in the Parkinson gene, their skin is naturally tough. So much that nothing is able to get through it."

"So are you saying most spells do not work on him?" said Alex, with mounting horror.

Voldemort shook his head. "Half-right. Only certain Light spells or the Unforgivables are capable for penetrating through that man's skin." He paused for a second. "So brat, how would you fight such an opponent as this?"

Alex chewed his lip worriedly. "I...suppose I could try stuffying him until he collapses," he tried hesitantly. "Or maybe I'll transfigure something into a bush and hopes he'll bugger off and leave me be?"

Voldemort glared.

'Or maybe not...'


	26. Searing Fire of Reality

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer:** No, I do not own HP. Yes! I finally figured out how to end this fic and start the sequel - Sinfully Treacherous. I really hope you guys like the twists later. Wink, as quote of a Naruto clip "look beneath the underneath," in these last few chapters since "nothing is what it seems." haha, now that I've officially confused you guys, I just wanted to let u noe that I think there'll be 3 or 4 more chapters of DT left. Lastly, in case none of you have noticed yet, I have posted an AU of Darkly Treacherous called Sullen Fate (i.e. What would happen if Alex is captured by the light). So yeah, check it out if you want.

* * *

**Chapter 26: Searing Fire of Reality**

"Not for their love shall Fate retire,

Nor they relent for our desire,

Nor the graves open for their call.

The end is more than joy and anguish,

Than lives that laugh and lives that languish,

The poppied sleep, the end of all." - Swinburne

* * *

**Hideaway**

* * *

It was dusk - the most glorious moment of the day. It was a time where the Light yielded to the Darkness, just like it ought to be. The gentle blue of the day was overwhelmed bit by bit by burning red hues, bittersweet yellows, and battle-worthy oranges. 

It was an omen.

It _had_ to be.

Lord Voldemort, the Darkest wizard in a century, leaned against the railings as his ruby red eyes glittered strangely in the quickly diminishing light. Something was calling out to him, something...strange.

Some might of dismissed it as paranoia, others as insanity. After all, _normal_ wizards did not suddenly feel induced to follow and obey an intangible source.

But he knew better than that.

The Dark was a strange entity - capricious and ruthless. Always quick to dole out punishment while eager to help. And tonight, Voldemort believed that it to be the later.

Dumbledore was planning something. He could feel it in his bones. The old fool and his force had fallen strangely quiet the moment the werewolf had been caught. Their attacks on his Death Eater troops had diminished exponentially.

Voldemort tilted his head up to study the sunset as a puzzled frown grew upon his face. What was it here that the Dark wanted him to see? Was it an omen about his successful campaign against the wizarding world? Or was it something more?

_Lies. Deceit. Trickery. _

He had not, even after all this time, forgotten the true nature of the Dark. Something was going to happen tonight, something so important that it garnered the attention of the untamable Dark. But the question was_, what_ was so important?

Voldemort frowned, his pale skin shinning ethereally beneath the glowing light of the sun.

An attack perhaps?

It would make sense with Dumbledore and his troops going into hiding the past few weeks. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. And yet, it made no sense at all. Dumbledore was of the Light. It would be utterly absurd for him to plan an attack during the dark of night, a time where the Light was at its weakest.

But then again, it _was_ Dumbledore.

'I'll tighten security tonight,' Voldemort concluded, giving on last glance at the quickly disappearing sun. 'And double the Death Eater watch and defense squads.' And with that said, he moved away from the balcony.

The sun glowed an eerie red as it began to slip into its slumber.

With a cruel smile, Voldemort turned his back and left. 'Come here if you dare, Dumbledore,' he dared silently. 'We'll see tonight whose troops are stronger.'

But little did Voldemort know, Dumbledore had already accepted said challenge.

For behind him, under the deadly glow of the sun, a small squad of cloaked figures emerged from the blinding rays. Figures that were dressed in sets of phoenix red robes...

* * *

**Alex's Chambers**

* * *

With a soft swish of fabric, Alex turned on heel and glanced, with an air of solemnity, at the full length mirror before him before grimacing. His father had, as of late, been determined to dress him in robes that designated his position as his father's right hand man and heir. 

A bitter smile crossed his face as he forced himself to evaluate his state of dress.

His robes were black as midnight - a tasteful concoction of intricately stitched blacks and silvers trim mixed with a hint of green. And upon touch, Alex noted that it felt as light and ethereal as spider-spun silk. A heavy set crest was carefully arranged upon his left breast, proclaiming his connection to the Slytherin family - namely as the heir of Lord Voldemort.

While he was thankful his father had accepted him, Alex couldn't help but loath his position. As Voldemort's heir, he had to constantly prove his strength and finesse may it be in the form of - death, destruction, or torture.

Alex sighed softly. He had nothing against the Dark Arts...but he hated pointless bloodshed. After all, if he killed a few dozen overly ambitious Death Eaters, it wouldn't make a difference in the long run. For other idiotically ambitious Death Eaters would take the place of their deceased peers. It would be nothing more than an endless cycle of killing...

It was stupid, pathetic even, how much others craved his title and position as the Dark Lord's right hand man. Alex had seen, in his twelve years, the utter contempt and disgust his father held for his followers. And should one of those fools somehow wrest his position from him, Alex was fairly positive that his father would AK them.

Revenge or no revenge.

If anything, Alex had to admit that his father's thinking of him was rather flawed and conflicted. On one hand, the man regarded him as a tool - albeit well crafted and trustworthy. But still, a tool. Voldemort, if anything, was a highly ambitious man; he was determined to get to places and was ready to use anything and everything as a stepping stone towards his goal.

However, while he may be a tool to a certain degree, Alex knew that his father cared about him. And that was where the difference lay. Even though he might be used for a stepping stone, Alex was fairly sure that his father would pound him out his encasing and drag him up to the top with him.

Dark Lord or no, his father loved him.

As far as Alex was concerned, the world could go screw itself over for all he cared. His complete loyalty belonged to his father, Voldemort, and nothing would ever change that. The man had given him everything he'd ever dreamed of - a family. His father had saved him from a life of depression and neglect and offered him power and prestige tinted with a hint of familial love.

'And what have I offered him in return?' Alex thought bitterly. 'Nothing but worthless thoughts of betrayal.' His eyes darkened in self-disgust. 'Ever since 'Uncle Moony' reappeared in my life, I've surreptitiously done everything I could to alleviate his pain. Even to the point of going against Father's wishes.'

Alex moved to turn away from the mirror, but paused as he caught sight of his eyes. Feral golden brown orbs glared back at him. He could feel, even from that distance, the utter disgust and darkness within his soul bubbling up past his well-constructed shields.

And it hurt.

'Harry Potter is dead,' he told himself firmly, forcing himself to hold his own glaze. The boy that you once were is gone. You are Alex Mortimer, heir to Lord Voldemort, nothing more nothing less. You cannot keep on allowing your past to rule you.

Alex's turned away in self-disgust.

'You want to be strong don't you?' his mind whispered enticingly. 'Then let go. Let go of your past - shed your memories like a second skin and emerge from your cocoon. You'll be free then - fully and completely.'

Alex's breath hissed out between his teeth. Yes, he wanted to help his father and usually would regardless of the cost. He would kill for his father; he would torture; he would die for him. But...he hadn't expected the price to be so high. It was his Uncle, goddamn it!

'Uncle Moony...I-I don't want to hurt you,' he thought feebly. 'But what other choice do I have?'

It would be exceedingly cruel for him to reveal his true self now. Harry James Potter _was_ truly dead - the only thing that remained were fragments of memories and emotions. While, yes, he truly cared about his Uncle, his loyalty belonged to his father.

And it was beginning to drive him mad.

Two completely different people had pulled him from the depths of despair and brought him hope. He loved them both with all his heart...and yet, war had torn it all apart.

'How can I kill him? He means everything to me, and yet, if I don't I would have failed.'

Alex closed his eyes in pain.

Who did he love more? Uncle Moony - the light that brought hope to young Harry when he had nothing left? Or his father Voldemort - the darkness that healed his wounds and nurtured him back into health? He shook his head in frustration. He didn't know, not even now, the eve of his Uncle's execution.

_'Brat, you're thinking to hard,'_ his father's stern voice rose from a long-forgotten memory and echoed about his mind. _'The answer is right before you shrouded within that clutter of a report.'_ At his puzzled glance, Voldemort instructed him to, '_Just take a step back and look at the big picture.'_

And Alex, did exactly just that.

Tonight Uncle Moony would die by his hand while the Inner circle watched and circled like a rabid flock of vultures. The man would suffer, undoubtedly, but - Alex's eyes snapped open in realization - he wouldn't break. His Uncle was strong both physically and mentally; his only weakness being his loved ones.

_'Harry Potter is dead.'_

Alex tilted his head in determination. He knew that if he revealed his true identity to his Uncle and then proceeded to torture him, the man would die broken and battered - both in body and spirit. And he couldn't, no wouldn't, allow that to happen.

And then, he made his choice - one and for all.

'I'll follow Father's orders,' he thought fighting to keep his emotions in check. 'I'll k-kill Uncle Moony, but...instead of torture I will give him a quick and clean death. I won't reveal my true self nor give Unc- the werewolf - any reason to feel anything but hate towards me...'

_'Because Harry Potter is dead.'_

'I do not deserve his love or his compassion,' Alex thought painfully, staring down at the ground. 'It would be much easier for the both of us if he hated me.'

_'You are not Harry Potter.'_

Sorrow flickered briefly across Alex's eyes before he quickly leashed it. 'The least I could do is allow Uncle Moony to die with his pride and heart intact. He loved me - Harry that is - with all his heart. I won't shatter his illusions. I want him to find happiness in death; I want him to be free.'

From what news he'd managed to acquire, after his supposed 'death' at the hands of Lord Voldemort, Uncle Moony had all but fallen into a slump. He barely ate, showered, or did anything for the matter. He just...existed - like a pale apparition. The only time he showed spirit was when he was with his friends.

It was a horrible life indeed. And yet, Alex understood.

His Uncle was a werewolf and he considered him - Harry, as his pup. It was simple pack mindset - as the alpha, it was his duty to protect the young. And Uncle Moony believed he'd failed...

And that day, when Harry Potter was 'murdered' a piece of his Uncle had died along with him. Alex sighed softly, returning his glaze to the ground.

'I have to let go; I am Alex Mortimer - nothing more, nothing less.'

* * *

**An Hour Later  
**

* * *

The distinct clicking of footsteps in his corridor jolted him out of his thoughts. Alex quickly forced a smile upon his face, before whisking out his wand and charming the door to open. There was only one person in the entire compound who knew the location of his rooms - his father, Voldemort. 

"Evening, father," he stated, trying to project an air of rigid solemnity, surreptitious prodding a few messy articles of clothing under his bed.

Voldemort sighed. "Your room gets messier ever time I enter," he noted, eying the messy piles of goodness-knows-what on the floor with distaste. "If I didn't know any better, brat, I would swear to it that your rubbish has been procreating."

Alex's face scrunched up in disgust. "It's not _that_ messy!" he protested.

"Really," his father drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It's not!" Alex retorted. "You're just a neat-freak," he said defensively. "Just because there are a few specks of dust here and there..."

Voldemort raised a brow. "It is not the dust I am concerned with," he stated, using his foot to prod a twitching green _thing_ on the ground.

"...and a few piles of my belonging," he continued, ignoring his father's words. "It does not mean that my room is inhabitable."

At this his father snorted. "You have a talent for understatement, brat," he drawled. "At the rate your going, I am sure your rubbish will soon rise up in rebellion and oust you."

"It would not!"

"Then pray tell, do tell me _why_ this green slime-ball of yours seems to be trying to push me away?" Voldemort queered, nodding pointedly towards the ameba shaped lump around his boot.

Alex grinned. "That's simple, father," he said easily. "It doesn't like you."

"Oh?"

"Yes, from what I've deciphered, said rubbish likes my room just the way it is," Alex finished with a teasing grin.

"Bah, that's ridiculous."

Alex shook his head sagely. "In the wizarding world, nothing is impossible."

"Perhaps," Voldemort allowed, "But, the rubbish has to go." He silenced his heir with a glare. "You are the heir to one of the most powerful bloodlines in the world. You should dress and act in a manner befitting of your station..."

Alex raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "Do you think I actually like to dress like _this_ for fun?" he asked incredulously, turning around to give his father a view of his expensive robes. "It's hot, itchy, and too black. If I had a choice, I wouldn't mind prancing about naked in my underpants."

Voldemort gave Alex a mock glare, before his expression turned serious. "Whilst I did not need that metal image," he drawled, his eyes darkening with worry, "We will debate this some other time; we need to get down to business."

Seeing his father's serious expression, Alex nodded dropping all pretence of levity. "Of course."

"Are you prepared for tonight?"

Alex met his father's eyes - blood red, merciless orbs met his own. "Yes, I am," he said evenly. "From now till the end of time, I will attend these meetings as your heir, most trusted servant, and...son."

Voldemort nodded, "Very good."

There was a comfortable silence as the two men pondered about their future. During the past few years, his father used all his power and knowledge to educate his heir. And in effect, he'd slightly neglected his position as Dark Lord.

But now, everything was going to change.

Alex was the first to break the silence. "Father?"

"Yes?"

"I -" he paused, "I just...I want to tell you something," he began lamely, fixing his glaze on the crack upon his father's face.

Voldemort looked surprisingly puzzled. "Proceed."

Alex chewed his lip nervously, while his face flushed with embarrassment. "It has just come to my attention," he said slowly, "That in the 7 years that I've known you, I have never...thanked you for everything."

The Dark Lord's eyes widened marginally.

"You have been kind to me - far more than the Potters were ever to me," he babbled, intent upon spilling his guts out. "I know I'm a disappointment. I've never been the best heir nor the best companion, and I apologize for that. I really do." Alex fidgeted slightly before continuing. "I'm crass, stubborn, and well, not good heir material. And I know that if it hadn't been for the freak accident that marked me as yours, you would have managed to obtain a more suitable heir..."

There was a short awkward silence.

"Brat, if I hear another 'sorry' from you, I will not be responsible for my actions," Voldemort hissed in annoyance, drawing Alex's glaze towards him. "While I have no idea what prompted you to indulge upon such sentimental drivel, but I assure you, the conclusions that you've drawn are inadequate."

Now it was Alex's turn to be shocked. "But it's the truth, I'm a horrible heir!" he protested.

"And rude on top of it," his father noted aloud, shaking Alex out of his stupor. "You may be an emotion-driven, hell-raising brat with no manners whatsoever..."

Alex bowed his head in shame. _I'm sorr -_

"...but, you are adequately versed in magic and do provide as a decent diversion when the times get to taxing," Voldemort hesitated for a moment as he searched for the right word. "And, loath as I am to admit, there is no one I would trust having at my back except you."

Alex eyes widened in pure disbelief. 'He trusts me that much?'

"Really?"

Voldemort gave him a look. "Really."

Alex bit his lip, staring at the ground. Honestly, what was wrong with everyone? Couldn't they all see what a horrible person he was? Couldn't they see that intentionally or no, he'd stomp on their trust and shove it back into their face?

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Voldemort sighed and decided to return to the topic at hand. "Brat, the meeting shall start in half and hour," he stated evenly, strolling towards the door before giving Alex a stern look. "And I expect you to be presentable by then."

Alex nodded. "Of course." And then at the last moment, he reached out and grabbed a fistful of his father's black cape, halting the older man's steps.

"Yes?"

Alex flinched slightly at the weary tone in his father's voice. "I know I'm being repetitive, but I want to say this one last time," Alex said softly, raising his golden brown eyes to meet his father's blood red ones. "Thank you. Thank you for everything, Father."

Voldemort gave him a long measured stare, before replying with a hint of awkwardness. "You're... welcome, Alex." And with that said, the Dark Lord left his son's chambers to prepare for his Death Eater meeting.

* * *

**Light Force**

* * *

James Potter grinned as he and his troops successfully infiltrated perimeter of the Hideaway. Just as Dumbledore had explained - or tried to in that convoluted manner of his - the ideal time to strike would be at dusk. For as the Light bled and lay down to rest, the Darkness and its followers would relax just enough for them - the Order that is - to sneak in. 

So with the dying rays of the sun caressing their skin, the Order made to stay aligned within the sun's blinding glare.

He glanced down, catching sight of a few Death Eaters lounging about in the forest. James' grin widened as he and the rest of the Order flew above them unhindered. 'Merlin, this is easy,' he declared smugly. 'By the rate we're going, we'll have Moony out in no time.'

"Cast Disillusionment charms now," commanded Sirius, as they neared the edge of the sun's rays. "Hurry it up mate," he hissed softly, noticing that his mate was staring off into space with a silly grin on his face. He urged his broom next to James and gave his friend a sharp nudge in the ribs.

James gave a pained 'omph,' and glanced about wildly before his eyes met Sirius's nervous yet determined eyes.

"The charm, Prongs."

"Oh, right," mumbled James, flushing in embarrassment. After all, there was nothing more pathetic than being caught off guard in enemy territory. "My bad."

Sirius gave him a tight smile. "Just be careful, alright?" he said softly, carefully surveying the ground for any suspicious Death Eaters. "Moony's life is on the line here. We can't afford to screw up this operation."

"Why are you acting so serious, Padfoot?" James asked, blinking in surprise. "So far the plan is perfect. No one, Death Eater or Voldemort, has discovered our presence here," he explained impatiently. "It's going to be fine, relax."

Sirius gave him an incredulous look.

"Relax!" sputtered Sirius. "Are you out of your mind Prongs?"

James frowned.

"We're on Voldemort's territory with only a squad of fifty strong. We have no idea where Moony is being held prisoner nor whether he's even sane anymore." He paused, shaking his head in a dog-like manner. "If anything," he said softly. "This is more of a suicide mission than anything else."

James looped over in the air and settled next to Sirius. "Come on Padfoot," he said softly. "You know that's not true. Dumbledore wouldn't have sent us here unless there is a chance for us to win."

"A chance," repeated Sirius, "Yeah, a slim one."

James ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Why are you acting so negative, Padfoot?" he demanded. "This isn't like you."

There was a short silence, as the two men stared ahead at the towering cavern ahead.

"Perhaps," Sirius agreed, chewing his bottom lip worriedly. "But you can't expect me to be cheerful when one of my best friend's life is on the line. I just...every time I see Voldemort I can't help but remember all those that I've failed to save." He took a deep breath, raising his eyes towards the stars. "And that worries me. So many dead..."

James sighed. "But you tried your best, Padfoot. We're Aurors - the heroes and protectors of the wizarding world. No one can truly expect us to save everyone."

Sirius dipped his head in shame. "I know. But sometimes..."

James leaned forward to catch his friend's next words."

"...I'm worried that my best just isn't good enough," he stated, glancing up and meeting James' eyes for the first time since the start of their conversation. "I don't want Moony to die," he whispered, "But I'm afraid I might not be able to prevent it."

James understood. "I know Padfoot. I know," he said softly, patting his friend on the back. They were both living in dark times. Death ran rampage about the wizarding world, uprooting families, destroying lives, and breaking spirits. And Sirius, an Auror for over thirteen years, had seen his share of such horrors - many of which slowly devoured his heart and spirit as effectively as a Dementor would.

"But for now, the only thing we could do, is try," finished James, giving Sirius a warm smile, with which the man returned tentatively.

Sirius stared at the slowly disappearing light, with a determined glint. 'I won't loose you, Moony,' he thought stubbornly. 'You're one of my best mates and I'd be damned if I'd let anything happen to you.'

All the while, the Order members were busy scouting for a landing patch. In a matter of minutes, they discovered a lone patch of bushes near the edge of the forest that was cloaked with ivy. It was, for a lack of better word, perfect for their plan.

Or so it seemed.

"Operation Moony is underway," murmured Sirius, as he landed next to James. "Merlin help us!"

* * *

**Next chapter preview:** The Light attack and Alex's confrontation with Remus (probably). 


	27. Restitution

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

**Note: **Ah shit, I think I should change the rating to R. hahaha, therez too many semi-perverted jokes and scenes I want to put into it. Oh yeah, the formatting for this chapter is kinda of different than my other ones. Since I've written so many different drafts of this, I decided to string them all together and see how they go. Also, I know some of you might wonder why Sirius is acting so serious and out of character, but one of his best friends _is_ currently in the hands of Death Eaters and most likely being tortured. Thus, he's allowed to act 'serious.' :) Oh yeah. You might get confused by a few scenes. I suggest you go back and read at least the last 3 or 4 chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Restitution**

_"My will shall shape the future. Whether I fail or succeed shall be no man's doing but my own. I am the force; I can clear any obstacle before me or I can be lost in the maze. My choice; my responsibility; win or lose, only I hold the key to my destiny." - Elaine Maxwell_

* * *

A cold sweat ran down his back as he watched the sea of darkly cloaked figures slowly trickle into the throne room. One by one each Death Eater knelt and kissed the Dark Lord's robes reverently before moving towards their designated spot, forming a rough half-circle around the prisoner's prone form. 

_Remus Lupin._

_Werewolf._

_Marauder. _

Beetle black eyes darkened with disgust and anger, as he watched the _werewolf_ struggle weakly against the silver threaded ropes that bound it in place. It was rather foolish, he noted, how people always fought so hard against the inevitable. Death was as natural as the wind. It swept through people's lives unexpectedly, snuffing out that the tiny flame of life that each and every individual carried within them.

He had watched with masked indifference as various memories of Mudbloods and Halfbloods fought tooth and nail to stay afloat against the rising tide of darkness flickered across his mind. He had felt the prisoners' horror and pain whenever any so happened to catch his eye, Legilimency be damned.

_'Why did they fight? What in the world was so precious about life?' _

Snape reached down and kissed the hem of his Lord's robes while murmuring his greetings before moving towards the corner of the room. He dipped his head in acknowledgement as he caught the eyes of a few of his fellow Inner Circle companions in the crowd before slowly backing into the shadows of monotony.

The moment he placed the blank white mask over his face, his inhibitions and fears dropped like a stone. Here, within the confines of the Dark Lord's hideaway, he was nothing more than a Death Eater - a passionately devout crusader bent upon destroying his Lord's enemies. Snape lowered his head reverently as the Dark Lord's eyes swept past him.

It made him feel...cold.

It gave him control.

It offered him power.

And he was a Snape - the half-blood bastard of the Prince line. How in the world could _he_ of all people refuse the offer to join one of the most powerful Dark Lords in a century?

_'I accepted it all. Pain for glory; blood for power; obedience for control. And yet, it hadn't been enough.' _

He had joined Voldemort to get revenge upon the Marauders, but in the end, he'd harmed no one but himself, Lupin, and perhaps the foolish mutt. Snape's face twisted into a violent snarl behind his mask as his anger flared. It wasn't fair how relatively unharmed the Potters managed to come out of the affair. He had expected them to fall to pieces, attack the Dark Lord with suicidal passion, or jump ship and go into hiding.

But he hadn't expected _that_ outcome.

_A pair of hurt hazel eyes stared up at him in confusion. 'Harry, sir? He's been gone for years' the Potter boy had whispered timidly, pausing to dip the dirty potions towel into the water before resuming his scrubbing. 'M' parents don't like to talk about him. They said that he was a...' he paused, trying to force out the word, '...a bad influence.'_

Snape's beliefs crashed and burned as he processed the Potter brat's words. He had never expected the Potters to be _relieved_ that their eldest son was dead. Nor had he been able to hold the younger boy's sad yet determined glaze.

_'But they're wrong,' the boy retorted stubbornly, much to Snape's surprise. 'The Harry that I remember had been nothing but kind to me. He was my best friend...my only friend,' he added after a pause, his lip trembling with emotion. 'I...I miss him.'_

Faced with a teary child and a strange welling of guilt in his gut, Snape had never felt as awkward as he did at that moment. He had been a double spy then - with one foot on each side, forever caught in the middle. And on a moment's fancy, he'd give the Dark Lord information about the Potter's plans for the 'Chosen One's birthday party.' He had been so angry that day, after playing victim to another of Potter's and Black's infamous pranks.

Snape sighed as he watched a random Death Eater subtly kick Lupin in the ribs.

He had wanted revenge upon the Potter family then. But, to his chagrin, it was the youngest Potter that received the backlash of his actions not his father, James bloody Potter. And not only that, the bloody fool was actually _thankful_ that it'd happened. Snape's eyes glittered with disgust.

_'And you dare call me a dirty snake, Potter' his mind had whispered. 'At least I don't desert my family.'_

He couldn't exactly pinpoint _what_ it was about that meeting with the Potter boy that had changed him. But it was bloody obvious that something did. The next time he met with Dumbledore, he'd made sure to procure more information than usual while subtly delivering misinformation to the Dark Lord. And then ever so slowly he began to turn his back to the darkness and Voldemort.

He didn't know why the boy's words had affected him so. After all, he was Severus Snape, prized Death Eater of the Dark Lord, and he had no heart.

_'Ah...even after all these years you haven't escaped your past,"_ his mind mocked cruelly. _'Poor little Severus - bastard half-blood of the noble Prince line - even after all these years you haven't forgiven your father for leaving you, have you?'_

With an angry snarl, Snape raised his Occlumency shields and hastily shoved his memories back down to the darkest depths of his soul. His beetle black eyes scanned the crowd, as he carefully evaluated his fellow comrades, half listening to the Dark Lord drone on about their imminent victory over Dumbledore.

Here at the Hideaway, the Death Eaters could generally be clumped into four categories. The Grunts were the lowest and stupidest of Death Eaters; they were cruel and vicious, often preferring magical weapons to wands. The next level were the Inept who are designated members of Voldemort's Outer circle; they were brash, foolish, and usually the ones who dove enthusiastically into suicide missions. However, unlike the Grunts they were fairly decent with their wand work, though by no means proficient. Next are the Lieutenants of the outer circle. They were fairly powerful magically; however, lacked the genius and creativity to enter the famed Inner Circle. The Circle was...special. Each member held a converted secret that only their Lord knew of - magic-proof skin, sword wielding, unmatched potion-making talents...

Few outside of the Inner Circle had ever witnessed said members' talents and lived to tell the tale. But gossip prevailed; and thus the Inner Circle was looked upon with jealousy, fear, and respect.

They were the crème de la crème.

Snape jerked out of his contemplations, a dark sneer growing behind his mask. A new Death Eater recruit had stepped out of the informal half-circle towards Lupin's shaken form, brandishing his wand like the idiot that he was...

* * *

"Cruc-" 

Remus closed his eyes and braced himself for the pain. Apparently his plan to stay relatively inconspicuous was severely flawed. Even _had_ the Death Eaters not been eyeing him like a mouse in a snake den, he had forgotten one small factor - he was, after all, the only non-Death Eater in the whole blasted mansion.

He sighed.

"Crucio," interjected a cold sibilant voice, causing the first Death Eater to drop his wand and scream in pain. Voldemort watched calmly as his servant rolled about at his feet. "I thought I had made it clear during our previous meeting," he stated coolly, feeling distinctively pleased as the rest of his servants lowered their eyes in fear. "That the werewolf was a...present, dare I say, for my heir.

The Death Eater continued to scream.

Voldemort's ruby red eyes glittered dangerously as he scanned the room, purposely sending a strong jet of energy at the nearly comatose fool before him. "The wolf is his to play with," he stated icily. "Alex could kill or torture the fool to his heart's desire for all I care. But..."

The sea of black robes seemed to shrink in upon itself after one look at their Lord's face.

"...no one else has that luxury nor that excuse," Voldemort finished in a bitingly soft whisper, leaning forward upon his throne with a cruel smile. After another few seconds, he finally released the curse, causing the Death Eater to fall into a twitching heap at his feet. "Am I understood?"

"Yes, m' lord," the Death Eaters chorused as one, dipping their heads in acknowledgement.

Voldemort gave them one last level glance before motioning towards the comatose body before him. "Get rid of it," he stated as a few Death Eaters levitated the body and proceeded towards the dungeons, intending to have some torturous 'fun' with the body before offing it.

Remus felt slightly sick as he listened to the murmurs and leers around him. His eyes darkened in disgust as he noticed the bloodlust that shimmered like a red veil over the Death Eaters' eyes as they watched the blood drip from their ex-comrade. His stomach churned in disgust.

They were monsters, the lot of them. Pure undulated monsters.

His amber eyes flickered towards the darkly clad teen leaning with an air of nonchalance against Voldemort's throne. The lad was dressed in an elegant set of black robes baring the Slytherin family crest proudly upon his left breast.

Surely _he_ at least found something wrong with this display?

Remus had felt, during his brief chat with the Dark Heir, that the boy's behavior was but an act, a mask. After all, it couldn't be natural for a heartless being to...feel the emotions that he'd seen flicker through the boy's eyes - Guilt, pain, worry, self-loathing.

The boy was surely but a sheep in wolf's clothing. He had, just like the rest of the Order, heard rumors about how Voldemort had kidnapped a child and brainwashed him into becoming the perfect heir. No matter how good the boy was at acting; no matter how cruel or dangerous he was; no matter what he did. The Dark Heir did it with the best intentions - loyalty, pride, and familial love.

And yet...

Remus's lips curved into a frown. A crime was a crime. It was rather hypocritical of him, on one hand excusing the Dark Heir's actions while condemning Voldemort's and his Death Eater's. But he couldn't help it. Just one glance into those golden brown pools caused him to loose all sense of reality.

They were always so sad.

The werewolf shook his head violently. What was it about the boy's eyes that arrested him so? What was it about the boy that kept on pestering him, kept insisting that there was something more to him than a mindless brainwashed tool?

He did not know. Though as he watched the Dark Lord and his heir exchange a few words, Remus _did_ know that it was highly unlike that he'd solve the puzzle before he died an excruciatingly painful death at the hands of the Dark Heir.

And strangely enough, he was not scared.

Remus eyes fell onto the tiles on the floor, as memories of the past flickered across his mind. The past few years had been so empty for him. So purposeless.

He had lived because he didn't want to hurt his friends.

He had lived because he was _needed_ to help fight Voldemort.

But mainly, he had lived because he was too afraid to kill himself.

And now, as he watched his executioner walk towards him, Remus couldn't help but feel a flicker of contentment. He couldn't help but feel peace for the first time since Harry's death. If he died, his friends would be safe. They wouldn't need to mount a suicide mission to save him. No one else would die because of his incompetence.

* * *

**Hideaway: Somewhere Outside**

* * *

"Ugh, what _is_ this?" muttered a disgusted Order member pointing at the white sticky substance coating the thorny bushes and grass that they'd landed on. 

James made a face, but leaned closer to get a better look. "I'm not sure, Hestia, but if I didn't know any better..." He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning towards the newly recruited witch behind him.

"Yes?" Hestia Jones queried.

James flushed a nasty shade of red, before looking around for help. Hoping against hope that another member would save him from this embarrassing discussion.

"Is it dangerous?" Hestia whispered worriedly.

The dark haired man shook his head violently. "No, no it's not," he said reassuringly. "But it is very disturbing to know that _this_ goes on in Voldemort's stronghold."

"What goes on?" she asked, absolutely clueless.

James chewed his lip. "Well, i-it's like this. You see, when two Death Eaters are feeling very...err...high, they help...calm each other down."

Hestia looked confused. "You mean by dueling?"

"Yes...dueling," he said, looking a bit green. "Which given the amount of...stuff here, I'd have to say there were...two wands used."

"Two?!" Hestia looked shocked. "Death Eaters could wield two wands at once?! Merlin, that's insane!"

"Yes. Insane." James muttered, feeling sick.

Hestia tapped her foot impatiently. "So? What are we going to do if we encounter such Death Eater? I know for a fact that none of us can wield two wands at once and I doubt we'd be able to survive such an onslaught."

"I know what you mean," James nodded dumbly. "If I ever encountered something like that, I'd be traumatized for life."

Hestia nodded. "Good. Then what should we do about it?" she queried, looking James in the eye. "I for one would like to survive this mission with my life intact."

"Same h-" James paused, seeing Sirius break off from his conversation. Giving the pink-cheeked, black haired witch an apologetic glance. He muttered a few excuses about discussing the idea with Sirius and quickly made his escape.

* * *

Sirius looked up just in time to see James scamper away from a young dark-haired witch. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he caught a few words that his friend was muttering... 

"...wands, white goo...'the talk'...trauma..."

He shook his head. Perhaps it was better if he didn't ask.

"Prongs," Sirius called out, watching with mild amusement as his friend made a beeline towards him. "As fascinating as your discussion might have been," he drawled, with a slight smile "I'm sure Lily would have your head if you hadn't managed to escape then."

James shook his head violently. "No, I doubt it. As a matter of fact, she'd be pleased. Damn pleased, mind you, that I'm practicing for the horrid...'talk" I'd have with Nate in a few years."

"The Talk," Sirius repeated blankly. "You mean..."

James shudder. "Yes. _That._"

"But then why did Hestia...how..." Sirius shook his head violently. "Never mind, I suppose it's best if I don't ask."

James nodded swiftly.

There was a short silence as Sirius collected his thoughts. "Right. Operation Moony. We've decided that it would be more practical to...alter the plan a bit."

"But why?" James complained. "The plan's perfect. Dumbledore organized it!"

Sirius shook his head. "We found a flaw."

"A flaw." James repeated, while shaking his head. "That's preposterous! Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes."

Sirius sighed as he summoned over a roll of parchment and opened it, revealing a map of the Hideaway (kindly provided by Snape). "Look James," he said calmly. "Dumbledore originally planned for us to strike directly at sunset. He had expected, righteously so, that we would have encountered some opposition at least before entering the fortress; thus, we would need to split our forces." He traced the red line marking the edge of the forest. "Two teams were originally sent to scour the forest for traps and guards while another team was to take out the Death Eaters around the entire fortress. And then we and Moody were supposed to enter the Fortress and rescue Remus."

James nodded.

"But...the thing is, we met little resistance."

James raised a sardonic brow. "So?" he drawled. "Isn't that a good thing, Padfoot? The less Death Eaters the better?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, it isn't. Since if there aren't that many guards, it means that there must be a meeting of some sort already commencing." His dark blue eyes flickered with worry. "And from what I've gathered, most likely Moony is there."

"I see." James said slowly. "But what should we do?"

Sirius ran his hand through his hair. "Moody and I thought it would be best to split into two teams and have one of them trip the alarms at the other side of the fortress. And we'll sneak in while the Death Eaters run off, leaving Remus for us to rescue..."

* * *

**The Hideaway: Throne Room**

* * *

With the smooth silent steps of a predator, Alex slowly made his way towards the lupine eyed man in the center of the room. His silky spider web robes rustled softly in his wake, creating an almost sibilant sound. 

He was the Dark Heir.

He tilted his chin up and met the Death Eaters' eyes with unflinching determination. They were _his_ to order. _His_ to control. Alex smirked lightly as some Death Eaters opened scowled at him while others graced him with a tight nod.

They all knew why he was here.

They knew that tonight was his official initiation as Voldemort's heir and commander. The Death Eaters hated it; Hated knowing that the most coveted position within their Lord's army had been usurped by a mere _child. _

_"You need to gain their respect," his father had ordered. "Death Eaters, while being mostly foolish, are proud. They will not kneel to anyone they feel is unworthy." Voldemort had said steadily, giving Alex an poignant glare. "You need to overcome your Gryffindor tendencies. You need to make them **fear **you." Voldemort's eyes glittered cruelly. "You need to show them **why** it is in their best interest to be your comrades..." _

Alex sighed softly.

_"Use the werewolf as an example," his father had hissed softly. "Torture him to the best of your abilities. Make him pled for his death..."_

His eyes flickered over and met his father's crimson ones. Voldemort had done so much for him. He had taken a broken orphan into his home and raised him. He had given him power and strength. He had shown him love...

While it was true that his Uncle had also loved him like a son, Alex was no longer Harry Potter. He may still loved the man dearly, but he knew that if he had to truly chose, his loyalty lied with his father.

_'I'm sorry Remus. Forgive me.' _

Alex's jaw tightened, as he felt his resolve strengthen. "M'lord, if I may proceed," he murmured softly, as he motioned towards the werewolf on the floor. A few sparks shot off from the tip of his wand, causing Remus to flinch.

The Dark Lord nodded curtly. "Do as you please Alex," he said with a glitter of...pride is his eyes. "He _is_ your prey after all."

Alex lowered his head in respect, dimly noting that his father had referred to him as Alex not 'brat.' He slowly prowled about the prisoner, taking note of Remus's poor state - pale skin, weight loss, eye bags and...strangely enough, blank weary eyes.

Those were the eyes of someone who had already resigned themselves to death.

Those were the eyes of someone who wished to die.

Alex felt something inside of him twitch uncomfortably as he stared into those familiar golden orbs. This was _Uncle Remus, for gods sake! Remus his protector. Remus his only friend. Remus his father in all but name._

But he had a duty.

And he was no longer Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry Remus," he whispered softly, watching the werewolf's eyes lit up in both confusion and understanding, before raising his wand and hissing, "_Abscido Commoveo_!" in Parseltongue. A jet of orange light flared from his wand and hit the werewolf dead straight in the chest, and within seconds, Remus' body began thrashing about and screaming in pain...

_'It's for the best. I'm sorry...'_

The Parseltongue spell was a dark justice curse. During the feudal ages, wizards had to fight to the death to preserve their family honor. Thus, friends were pitied against friend. Blood against blood. It was a violent time and many wizards would commit suicide after such battles, being incapable of acknowledging that they'd murdered someone they'd loved. Thus _Abscido Commoveo_ was invented. It took detached a victim's soul from their body, which was made to look as if it was being torture. The victim felt no pain, no agony at all whatsoever during the whole transition. And in exchange, the castor had to relinquish a piece of his soul in order to power the spell. Which thus made it physically impossible for the castor to feel any guilt or remorse for their actions against their victim.

It was the Dark Arts pure and simple.

The boy ignored the sharp gasps and harsh whispers coming from the Death Eaters; he ignored the piercing glaze his father sent him; he ignored the fact that the werewolf's - his once honorary uncle - face was contorted in pure agony.

Blood. There was so much blood.

The werewolf began clawing at his skin, biting his limbs, and screaming in a hoarse feral tone. It went on for minutes, causing the Death Eaters to fidget uncomfortably. And then, it was suddenly over.

Alex felt his magic rear its head and glanced back at him. And in one swift move, Alex shut his eyes and hissed softly in pain, flinching as a piece of his soul was violently shredded apart. His eyes flickered from gold, emerald green, before settling into a familiar crimson red shade...

* * *

**To Be Continued.**

* * *

**Note:**

1. Remus' soul and body are now separated; thus, he cannot feel any pain. His body is thrashing about since it is in pain from the soul separation. It is not dead yet and would probably take some time before it does. And until the body dies, Remus is technically alive since his soul is lingering about.

2. I know I promised a 6000 word chapter, but I got lazy and only wrote this much. I checked out the tons of reviews i've gotten so far and felt kinda bad since i rarely if ever update. So yeah. I wrote almost 2000 words today and well, here's the lovely chapter! XD

3. Thank you all so much for the Reviews! I will try to update the next chapter as soon as possible! And yes. I will not stall anymore! The next chapter is going to be the Light versus Dark battles part 1 and the second chapter's a continuation of that. And the third is going to be an epilogue or prequal to Sinfully Treacherous.


	28. Upon the Eve of Darkness

**Darkly Treacherous**

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Upon the Eve of Darkness**

* * *

Voldemort resisted the urge to stand up and curse that_ idiot_ boy with each and every dark curse under the sun. The boy had no idea what he had just done; no idea what_ true_ darkness that curse commanded. Especially when spoken in Parseltongue which naturally amplified spells. 

_He shredded his bloody soul into pieces._

Shredded, yes, not split. And for a soul, which consists of three different spheres - mind, body, and emotions, when carefully split, takes an equal portion from each sphere. Thus, allowing the castor to still act and process the world sanely and efficiently. And if it was torn...

Merlin help them.

_For in the end, they will all die...whether by their own hand or another's. _

Voldemort's crimson eyes narrowed as he studied the dazed form of his heir before moving towards the thrashing form of the werewolf. He didn't understand. Why in the name of Merlin had Alex even_ bothered_ to sacrifice anything for the bloody werewolf? Why would Alex even want to lessen the pain of the man who had a hand in his parent's neglect?

It just didn't make any sense.

The boy_ hated_ his parents. That he was positive about. While Alex did not hate his parents to the point that he would go and actively hunt them down, Voldemort had no doubt that when the time came, Alex would have no qualms about dealing them a blinding green death blow.

But what was so special about the werewolf? Lupin, was it?

He didn't know, not now...but one way or another he'd have his answers. Voldemort eyes glittered with determination as a dark smirk crossed his face. One way or another he would save the boy; one way or another he would destroy the man who indirectly had harmed his heir...

Even if the bloody werewolf had somehow become an incomplete Horcrux.

_"Brat...you have a lot of explaining to do,"_ Voldemort thought dimly, as the boy sudden raised his eyes and crimson met crimson.

* * *

A soft hiss escaped his lips; darkness, pain, and light swirled about his vision as he eyed the trembling werewolf before him. Blood, so much blood. 

_What had happened?_

Alex's eyes glittered strangely in the light, causing the Death Eaters to murmur and gasp as the boy quietly evaluated the scene before him. He clenched and unclenched his hand, staring with unholy confusion at the blood dripping from the multiple nail marks on his palm. He didn't remember what happened. He couldn't.

_Why? Who..._

A deep buzzing sound rang in his ears - dark, deep, and musical - resonating with his soul, with his uncertain trembling physical form. Something was missing; something was deeply wrong. He didn't understand._ What have I done? Merlin help me, what did I do?_ He could all but taste the fear in the room, the uncertainty bubbling up like lava - destructive yet unstoppable. And it swept him up in a gigantic wave. And he was scared...

_Remus. Werewolf. Uncle._

A harsh, mad chuckle escaped his lips. Had he truly done it? Did he truly succeed? Had he managed to protect the werewolf, his uncle, from the pain of betrayal? Yes, yes, he must have! For even now, he could feel his head throbbing from the power; his chest tightening with loss...**_"Abscido Commoveo!"_** had been a success. It had to have been...

_Certainly all that pain couldn't have been for nothing?_

He had completed the spell; he had separated his uncle's soul from its body; he had won._ Hadn't he? _Alex tilted his chin up and studied the sea of Death Eaters before him. They were scared...so fucking scared. A confused glint flickered in his eyes.

_'Why are they scared? Didn't I do** good** not evil with my act? Wasn't it...mercy?'_

Alex stared at the werewolf in confusion. He did the right thing didn't he?

* * *

"Brat?" Voldemort hissed softly in Parseltongue, causing his heir's confused crimson eyes to once against dart towards his. The boy was an idiot, yes, but he couldn't afford to let Alex ruin his own image in front of his future subordinates. The boy was his heir, goddamn it, and he was, by Merlin, going to remain his heir! 

The boy shook his head roughly and bared his teeth into a frightening grin. "Father," he acknowledged likewise in Parseltongue. There was a short silence as the two men stared quietly evaluated one another, before Alex broke it with a tense laugh. "You needn't look so worried," he said slowly, "The spell was a success. The werewolf will die..."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.

"...and then it'd finally be over," Alex sighed, as he stared straight into the shaking screaming 'mess' on the floor. "There is no one else that..." The boy blinked roughly, as an unknown pain struck his mind.

_Pain. Agony. Cub...sorry sorry._

"Yes?" Voldemort hissed impatiently.

"I..." Alex ducked his head and resisted the urge to wince as the pain at his temples grew even worse. "Forget it," he said waving his hand dismissively. "It isn't important."

The Dark Lord eyed his heir silently. It was obvious that his hypothesis was correct; the boy_ had _shredded his soul to a certain degree. While yes, the boy still maintained his mental capacities...it was quite obvious that_ something_ in the boy had changed. This Alex was not the same Alex who he had mockingly argued with an hour or so ago. This Alex was...different. Colder perhaps? More distracted?

_Lily. James. Sirius..._

"Alex," Voldemort hissed once again, noticing that his heir's eyes were glassy and blank. He could feel the magic in the air; all that bloody magic weld in the form of an the unfinished **_Abscido Commoveo_** curse...waiting for the right moment to exact its payment. "You cannot complete the spell," he said tersely. "You do not know what you're sacrificing."

The boy's eyes flickered green for a moment, before returning to the odd crimson red. "But I do."

Voldemort's eyebrow twitched at the brat's blatant disregard of his authority, but allowed it to pass for the moment being. "You shredded your soul boy," he snapped, "Whatever piece you've sacrificed into the spell in currently linked with the werewolf's life energy. He's like a Horcrux. Destroy him, you'll destroy a piece of yourself."

Alex remained unmoved. "I made my choice," he hissed coldly, "I have no regrets," and raised his wand and pointing it towards the screaming figure on the floor. "The werewolf has to die. He means nothing to me now. I can destroy him. I have to. The spell cannot be broken..."

The Dark Lord's eyes darkened even further. "That may be so, but there are always other...remedies."

"Oh?"

"That's right," Voldemort stated softly. "It's a dark curse...perhaps it'd allow some other individual to be the...sacrifice." He twirled his wand, aiming it casually towards a cowering group of Death Eaters, "And if one won't suffice, we have many idiots here to spare," he stated in English. A malicious smile crept onto his face as he saw his followers pale in fright.

And one, obviously a new recruit, even fainted.

Alex's eyes turned icy. "It won't work," he stated in Parseltongue. "The spell wants blood...his blood," he gestured towards his uncle. With a slow and deliberate prowl, he sauntered towards the werewolf, twirling his wand idly. "I accept the price, father," he said bitingly. "It's only a piece of my soul. It's unimportant in the grand scheme of things."

Voldemort growled softly. "You're not thinking straight."

The boy threw his head back and let out a wild barking laugh. "Not thinking straight?" he said mockingly. "What are you talking about father? I have never seen the world as clear as I do now. After all..." he drawled, "...aren't emotions for the weak?"

The Dark Lord's jaw tightened in realization. So he had been right. The boy_ had_ shredded his soul into pieces...and the spell has taken a huge chunk out of his emotional psyche. His ruby red eyes narrowed as he studied the boy's relaxed yet feral posture and slightly mad glint in his eyes.

No. This wouldn't do at all.

"Yes, it is" he admitted, leaning slightly upwards from his throne. A dark smirk crossed his face. "But I will say that, in your case, I've always attributed your success to the prowess of your emotions." Voldemort swallowed a grin as he saw a slightly predatory glint in his heir's eyes. "And now...I suppose you've taken a fall for the worse."

Alex paused, before baring his teeth at his father. "Is that so?"

"That's right," Voldemort coaxed.

_Harry. Where are you. Harry...cub..._

The boy's eyes flickered green for a moment, as his wand hand loosened. But then, within seconds, it reverted back to the frightening shade of crimson red. Crimson blood. Crimson death. Alex tilted his head and looked at his father straight in the eye. "You're lying," he said coldly. "You know I am stronger now. You know that I'm more of an heir now than I've ever been to you in the past."

"Brat..."

Alex's face darkened. "You gave me the werewolf. It is mine._ My_ prey. And I'm going to kill him piece of piece..."

Voldemort's snarled silently at the boy's impertinence.

"...don't stand in my way."

* * *

**The Guards**

* * *

Atop the large cavern known as The Hideaway, two Death Eater sentries stood wearily at their post staring out at the vast expanse of land that was Voldemort's prized territory. In their nearby vicinity, thick spiky bushes dotted the ground like a mad hive of ants, while further out, groves of thick and old trees provided a convenient barrier against any ground attacks. In addition to its natural defenses, the Hideaway also bore a heavy artillery of wards and other enchantments, all focused upon detaining and obviating any intruders. Not to mention, the sheer number of Death Eaters that guarded its metaphoric gates usually deterred any trespassing... 

_Usually_ being the key word.

But then again,this particularpair of gossiping Death Eaters did not at all strike fear into the hearts of their opponents. Tall, slender, and_ very_ talkative, the brunette twins did not at all resemble anything specifically Death Eater-ish...that is except for their eyes - as cold and calculating as ice.

However, no one, save Voldemort, knew their_ true_ identities and their...dark proclivities. The twins were, in essence, spies that the Dark Lord had inserted throughout his ranks. Their job was very straightforward and simple - find the traitors and kill them quietly.

They were one, among many, of the elusive group known as the Shadows.

Born, bred, and brainwashed, under Voldemort's rule, the Shadows were loyal to a degree of fanaticism. After so much intensive mental and magical brainwashing, these individuals had become more machine than man. They had no dreams, no goals, and rarely a personality. They were what Voldemort deemed the "perfect spies." Without emotions and other ties hindering them, these men were quick, efficient, and trustworthy.

Not to mention, their masks were absolutely flawless.

With their friendly features and warm smile, the twins were able to easily gain access to many Death Eater's prized secrets. And with it, blackmail and hunt down the perpetrators before alerting the Dark Lord.

Well, at least that was how things worked_ then._

A few weeks ago, they were summoned along with their fellow Death Eaters to stand before their most beloved Lord. And there they had seen the boy, a gangly young teen, fend off and attack a few of their more foolish companions. And Nott, that idiot, had dared to raise his wand against the Dark Lord's heir...

Idiots.

Honestly, were the rest of the Death Eaters so dense that they couldn't see that the boy was powerful? And even if they were all but blind to their surroundings, shouldn't they've at the very least known that the Dark Lord wouldn't name someone foolish or incompetent as his heir?

The Dark Lord had changed drastically over the past few years. Gone were the perpetual rages and icy gaze. He no longer dove obsessively into battle against Dumbledore and the Light. He had become the leader they had always dreamed of.

The slight older one of the twins paused, his sky blue eyes lightly scanning the edge of the forest. He leaned lazily against the door and tilted his head in a curious manner as he noticed a peculiar flicker of light…

With a mild smile, he turned towards his brother and gave a surreptitious nod with which the man returned brightly. _Intruders. Three o'clock._ Raising their cross staves as one, they mockingly shoved it into the ground…knowing that, a mile away, a loud shrill alarm would sound within the central meeting room.

And it was then, after they have accomplished their duty, that the twins casually made their way towards the forest, gossiping and chit-chatting all the way, their eyes gleaming feral. _They were going hunting. _

* * *

Light Forces:

* * *

Oblivious to the alarm stirring among the Death Eaters, Sirius and James slowly crept deeper into the maze that composed the Hideaway. They had managed to successfully detain two Death Eater guards easily, before interrogating them for Remus's location. The two of them had cracked fairly quickly, much to James's surprise; thus, forcing him to conclude that the guards were but new recruits. 

_The wolf is in the throne room._

Sirius shook his head in despair. The guards' confirmation meant that Remus was being tortured at this very moment. He, of all people, knew that despite all the immunities granted to werewolves, there were_ many_ terrible things that one could do to overcome them. Or even worse, take advantage of them so that the victim would_ live_ longer under torture. His family had been Dark. He_ knew_ what they were capable of. He knew that Remus had a slim to no chance of surviving unless…they found and freed him quickly.

Time was of the essence.

"James," Sirius hissed harshly. "We need to get going…"

* * *

**Throne Room**

* * *

Voldemort's crimson red eyes narrowed dangerously as he met the challenging eyes of his heir. _This wasn't supposed to happen,_ his mind screamed in protest. He had spent so long molding Alex into the perfect heir that he had never once considered the idea that the boy might rebel against his authority. His hold on the boy should have been strong enough!_ I gave him everything and this is how he repays me?_ The Dark Lord chose, at that moment, to give into his anger for the first time since the child moved in… 

"Crucio."

Alex flinched, his eyes going a wide hurt emerald green, before the curse hit. He hissed softly as his world exploded in pain, not knowing that his father had reacted in the same manner._ Slytherin's curse be damned! _A long minute passed before the Dark Lord removed the curse, his hand trembling.

_"Don't challenge my authority child,"_ Voldemort hissed softly. "You are my heir and as your Lord, it is my duty to lead." He watched the emerald green in the brat's eyes slowly drain away to crimson red. He had accidentally broken his glamour upon the child's eyes which had served to make them golden brown. But alas, it was of no importance.

Alex fought to control his trembling, his mind, already fragmented from casting the spell upon the werewolf, tried unsuccessfully to make sense of what was going on._ 'Father never hurt me before,'_ he thought blankly._ 'I don't understand. Why now?' _A well of pain and guilt flared in his chest for some unknown reason. The child bowed his head and tried to understand comprehend these alien feelings..

_Cub. Don't fear. I…will protect…_

Alex's head jerked up as he finally recognized the voice. Dear Merlin, had he lost his mind?! He had killed his Uncle Remus with the curse._ Well almost that is._ If the curse had been successful…why, he shouldn't be able to hear the werewolf's voice inside his head.

_Harry…_

Alex grabbed his head and pulled his hair._ No. NO. NO!_ It couldn't be. Things just couldn't turn out this way. Remus was_ dead._ Murdered by his hand! He couldn't…surely he couldn't…The boy flinched as a thin spidery hand suddenly grasped his shoulder and shook it roughly. Alex's crimson red eyes darted about the room with a glint of a caged animal, before focusing upon the person that was holding him. _His father. Voldemort. _

_"Brat…" Voldemort_said awkwardly, as he watched his heir fall to pieces before his very eyes._ Perhaps casting the crucio on the boy in his current state wasn't the best idea ever. Perhaps… The Dark Lord shook his head roughly. "We will continue this conversation later. But for now…" _The Dark Lord was interrupted as a loud shrill alarm went off…

The battle had begun.

_-_

_-_

_TO BE CONTINUED:_

_-_

* * *

_**A/N: Alex is so out of character since he just lost a shard of his soul. I'll explain why he can hear Remus's voice in his head in the next chapter. But until then, THANKS for sticking by! **_


	29. Swiftly into Darkness

**Darkly Treacherous **

**By: **xxlostdreamerxz

**Disclaimer: **No, I do not own HP.

**A/N:** This is the update that I promised for Friday, but I decided to post it now since I finished early.

**Important: **Thank you all for helping me on my shortform competition! Since the competition is 10 weeks long and is broken into weekly rounds, I'll **need your help again next week** (the stats reset on Sunday night). I've already met my quota for this week (500 views and 10 minutes of viewtime/user) thanks to you guys and scored 1 point (out of 10). As promised, I will **update an EXTRA chapter of Darkly Treacherous** next **Tuesday in addition to the one next Friday**. _If I meet my quota again for next week I'll give you guys an extra update again...otherwise, it'd just be Friday updates as usual. _Thank you so, so much. I really appreciate everything you guys are doing for me. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 29: Swiftly into Darkness**

* * *

Dimly aware of his father barking orders to various troops of Death Eaters, Alex stood silently in the corner, staring intensely down at his wand. His fingers shook from the suppressed need to finish the curse; he could feel the _need_ itching in the back of his mind, making it impossible to concentrate on anything but the pain. When he had first stumbled across the spell, he had felt nothing but relief. The price seemed so miniscule compared to what he'd gain. In exchange for a shard of his soul, Alex would be able to not only alleviate suffering on his Uncle's behalf, but also prevent himself from living out the rest of his life filled with guilt and regret.

_But, there was so much pain._

His magic swirled erratically about, buzzing and hissing like it was alive. As it slid across his skin, he could feel the burning, uncontrolled heat of accidentally magic tearing into him. Releasing a harsh breath, Alex bit down so hard that he drew blood.

"_Cub, you must focus…" _his Uncle's voice echoed in his mind, the words coming in with a varying level of clarity. _"Complete the spell….must..."_

At the sound of the voice, Alex froze feeling the pain subside if only for a moment. He closed his eyes, allowing a bitter, broken laugh to escape his lips. It made sense, _so much fucking sense._ Since he hadn't complete the spell, the connection that was forged by this dark, justice spell still existed; it seemed, for now at least, the only thing keeping his soul from cracking under the strain of the incomplete ritual was Uncle Moony's soothing presence, gently seeping between the fractures.

_"I…won't let you break," _his Uncle voice whispered, coming out as nothing more than a raspy whisper. _"You must live, Harry." _

Alex nodded. Slowly but surely, he dragged his feet over to where his Uncle's body was currently slumped. He could taste the bile in his throat as he stared down at his uncle's worn, familiar face. "I'm sorry it had to end this way," he murmured half to himself, his shattered soul refusing to allow him to comprehend why he was feeling such poignant regret and pain. "I'm sorry."

There was a pause, before his Uncle's voice drifted across his mind. _"It's not your fault cub. Never think that." _The voice made a strange, half-croaking sound. _"I love you, Harry. Always." _

Alex closed his eyes, biting his torn lip painfully.

"I understand," he said, quietly. Ignoring the confusion swirling about his head, he managed to force his tongue into saying a last, important phrase. "I love you too, Moony."

With that said, he lifted his wand.

* * *

Catching sight of his heir standing over the werewolf, Voldemort's breath caught in his throat. _No_, surely the boy wouldn't dare go against his orders. Shaking off the Death Eater that had been posturing before him, he quickly strolled over to where Alex was standing stiffly, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"Brat."

Instead of looking up at his voice, the boy mumbled something under his breath and raised his wand. Alex gave the werewolf a short, pained glance, before he opened his mouth to begin the incantation. "Aveda…."

Acting fast, Voldemort reached out and snatched away Alex's wand, causing the boy to cry out in alarm. "Brat," he hissed dangerously, finally catching the boy's attention. "What do you think you're doing?"

Alex met his father's dangerous crimson stare. "I'm doing what I need to," he said coldly, as his emotions shifting erratically. "That piece of my soul is already set as a sacrifice. I need to complete the ritual." He bared his teeth into an almost animalistic snarl. "You can't stop me."

Voldemort felt his ire rise at the blatant challenge.

"You fool," he hissed, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Don't you see? The werewolf's body is your Horcrux now. You _cannot_ destroy him."

Alex's eyes flickered gold for a second, as he muttered something under his breath. He could hear there werewolf urging him to confess everything to his father. To tell him about the pain, such unbearable pain…

Voldemort frowned, catching the word "_Moony"_ in the boy's one-sided conversation.

After what seemed like an eternity, Alex sighed and met his father's concerned gaze. "There is no other way," he said, tiredly. Golden eyes were unfocused as they stared at the ground. "The spell won't be fooled. I…I can feel it tugging at me," he whispered, sounding sane for the first time since the start of their conversation. "It will shatter the rest of my soul as retribution if I don't complete the spell."

"You can't be sure."

Alex shook his head in frustration. "I can _feel it,"_ he snapped. "You've told me yourself that magic is sentient. I_ know_ what will happen if I refuse." He looked at his father beseechingly. "Please, just this once. _Trust me._"

Voldemort hissed in frustration. "It's not a matter of trust. It's your_ soul_ on the line," he said angrily. "Do you know how much weaker this will make you? Some of your magic is located inside that damn shard."

"I know," he said calmly.

Turning away from his heir's pained golden stare, Voldemort threw the boy's wand at his feet. "Do what you will," he snapped, walking away. "I will be securing the base, so be sure to make yourself scarce after you kill him. You shouldn't go to battle with oscillating magic levels."

Alex's nodded silently.

Crimson eyes pinned him down. "Don't think you're off the hook, brat," the man said dangerously. "We will discuss this later, once you are no longer in danger."

The boy looked down. "I understand."

While he watched his father walk away, Alex distantly listened to his uncle's voice calmly soothing him in his mind. Stiffly, he turned his attention back to the werewolf's prone body. However, unlike before, he raised his wand and allowed it come down in a harsh, swishing motion before ending it with a jab. "Aveda Kedavra," he finished, his eyes flickering between gold and crimson as he stared down blankly at his beloved uncle's face.

He could feel the soul shard, the one trapped within his uncle's body wither away, shriveling into nothingness; a horcrux no more. At the same time, his uncle's essence which had been wrapped gently about his shattering soul, acting as a sort of buffer to prevent breakage, began to brighten – shining a dim, silver.

Alex watched with confusion as silver particles began to exit his skin, drifting off and coalescing above the dead werewolf's body. _This wasn't supposed to happen,_ he thought dimly. The curse was a dark justice curse; one _took_ from its caster – an eye for an eye. His soul shard was gone, but…what…

As he watched, Alex's eyes began to drain of its crimson sheen, slowly reverting back to his familiar gold. He clenched his chest, suddenly filled with _regret_, _guilt_, _pain._ Gasping, he fell to his knees too confused to do anything but stare at the glowing silver particles. The curse was supposed to take away his emotions. He had sacrificed a piece of his soul for that outcome…he didn't understand why it wasn't working.

Tears trickled down his face as he stared at the silver particles that were coalescing and glowing brighter and brighter by the second. Alex felt something tug at his heart; it was…calling out to him. He didn't know what it wanted, but he mentally accepted the touch. He felt…dirty. It was the least he could do, accepting that gentle, soothing melody…

Because his eyes were closed, Alex missed the blinding flash of light.

* * *

**TBC**

**A/N:** Please check out my shortform link (which is on my profile) after Sunday so that I can get stats for next week. If you guys are as awesome as you were this week, I'll give you another extra update as thanks. But for now as thanks for all the work you guys did this week, there will be an extra chapter posting of DT next Tuesday in addition to the one next Friday for you guys to read. Hope you enjoy!


	30. The Exchange

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**A/N: **Please check out my **Shortform Channel**! This is Week 2 of the competition and I really, really need all of your help to win. So please go to my profile and check out the link. I personally selected extra-cute holiday videos for you guys to watch. Please watch at least 10 minutes so that I can get good stats for the week! Thanks.

**Note:** As promised, this is an extra chapter that I wrote for you guys as thanks for helping me win the Shortform competition round last week! **If I win again this week, I'll give you guys an extra Tuesday update next week on top of the one this Friday. **Thank you so, so much for helping. You have no idea how much this means to me. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 30: The Exchange**

* * *

James cursed softly under his breath as he and his team ran through the corridors, dodging curses right and left, as they attempted to navigate their way to the throne room. Based on the schematics that Snape had given them, Remus should have been locked away in one of the side dungeons. It was one of the first places they had checked upon breaking in.

They'd found nothing but a pile of rusty silver chains, a dead body, and _blood._

Slightly fearful, the Order had cast a diagnostic charm on the bloody stain only to ascertain that it had come from their werewolf friend and the dead Death Eater lying upon the ground. Faced with such daunting information, the group was forced to come to two, worrisome conclusions.

One, Remus had somehow managed to escape and was currently wandering around, wandless and weakened, in a fortress on high alert that was swarming with Death Eaters. Two, someone had kidnapped him for reasons unknown and killed the only witness available, the Death Eater guard.

Remus's chances of survival seemed to be diminishing by the second.

Ducking quickly around the corner, he grabbed Sirius by the robe and shoved him to the ground…just barely escaping the sickly jet of purple light that flew over their heads. The two of them sighed in relief.

It was during this brief, short exchange that Sirius opened his mouth and asked the one question that had been plaguing the Order since they'd found Remus's empty cell. "Prongs, tell me," he stated unexpectedly serious, as they both exchanged curses with a couple of Death Eaters. "Has this mission degenerated into a suicide run?" he said quietly, his voice light despite the indecision and worry in his eyes.

James laughed, though his breath hitched at the end. "Of course not, Padfoot," he said, though his wand trembled. "After all, when did you become scared of a _little_ danger."

Sirius snorted, twirling his wand in a defensive maneuver.

"Besides, we didn't come all the way here for nothing," James said. "Remus_ has_ to be in the throne room. We've tried combing the fortress for him and he just _isn't here._"

Sirius allowed a smile to cross his face. "Of course, Marauders got to stick together, eh?"

James nodded, a strange weight falling in his stomach at those words.

* * *

His breaths came out in harsh, painful rasps. Alex couldn't remember when exactly he had crossed the line between shock and horror and began hyperventilating. But the memory of his uncle's murder kept on replaying over and over again in his mind. _He_ had done. _He _was the one responsible. It didn't matter if he had to appease his father or maintain his status before the Death Eaters. In the end, it had been his choice: his wand, his incantation, his _intent_ were the mechanisms responsible for his Uncle's death.

It would be dishonorable to try and foist the responsibility off on someone else.

Clenching his fist, Alex forced himself to calm down and _think_. He couldn't afford to fall to pieces here. He had already made his choice and there was nothing he could do but live with the repercussions. Thus, it'd be stupid to mope over it.

He was certain a piece of his soul was gone. The spell would not have accepted anything other than his soul shard as the price. But what he didn't understand was_ why_ he was able to still feel guilt, sadness, and…

His soul _hurt_ and his magical reserves were undoubtedly smaller but strangely stable.

Alex shoved aside his anger at the spell. It made him furious how he had sacrificed so much for a spell that had failed to deliver. It was a Justice Curse; it was supposed to be equivalent exchange. He would set conditions in terms of the victim's treatment and the price for his demands was a piece of his soul. He had delivered on his part of the bargain but had gotten nothing in return.

He was supposed to be emotionless.

Cursing softly, Alex tore his gaze away from the ground only to _freeze_ in shock as he stared in horror at the transparent, pale figure floating him_._

* * *

Remus Lupin was having a bad day.

He had lain on the chamber floor, petrified and chained, as he waited for the Dark Heir to send him a death blow…only to find himself completely detached from his body, incorporeal, and invisible to boot. _Then_ he had the grand old opportunity of seeing _himself_ twitch and wither pathetically upon the ground obviously in the deepest throes of pain.

Then he had made the mistake of staring into the boy's crimson eyes.

It should have been shocking, but after everything that had happened already Remus didn't do more than blink. He had somehow ended up inside the boy's mind. It might have had something to do with his incorporeal state, but Remus wasn't too concerned. After all, there were more important matters at hand…such as finding information for the Order.

Curious, the man began to briefly browse through the memories…curious as to _who_ the Dark Heir was. And it was here, in this desolate, broken space in the boy's mind that Remus managed to piece together the fact that had been eluding him from the moment he first met Alex.

Harry. Alex was _Harry Potter._

His instincts had been calling out to him, telling him that the boy, the Dark Heir, was his cub. But his mind had dismissed the thought. After all…Harry and Nate were the only children of his pack and there was no way they could have been Dark. Remus resisted the urge to laugh and cry at the same time. His child, his cub, was _alive._

But he had become the enemy.

Remus frowned, feeling his heart twitch painfully as he went through Harry's earlier memories. He had always known that the Potters hadn't had that much time for Harry, but he had no idea that they were so neglectful. It made him angry but at the same time, he couldn't…couldn't…

He shook his head angrily.

Remus didn't know how long he spent scrolling through the memories. But when a deep, pained howl rolled through Harry's mind, Remus jerked to attention. The world, the memories, was shattering…shaking...and breaking off into tiny pieces as Remus sat frozen.

He didn't know what was going on exactly, but he knew that he had to do _something._ The manifestation of Harry's memories shattering could not possibly be a good thing. So with care and patience, Remus tentatively sent out his magic and imagined casting Reparo at the memories. He didn't know if it worked or not, but the memories stopped shattering.

Remus continued fighting against the disintegration, stopping only to murmur something comforting to the boy though he knew logically that Harry couldn't hear him. It wasn't until he felt himself begin to shine, shift, and then…disappear once again, that Remus knew something strange was about to happen _again._

Once the nausea was over, Remus finally opened his eyes. He froze finding himself floating over his dead, miserable body…looking all too pale and transparent.

* * *

His golden eyes were wide and completely dilated as he stared with mounting disbelief and horror at the visage floating before him. It was…Uncle Moony. Only he was transparent, a pearly white color, and was also supporting an equally horrified expression upon his face. He was also floating above his dead body.

Alex could feel the bile rising up his throat.

Was this his punishment? Was this what that twisted Justice curse had deemed as equivalent exchange? A loud, completely hysterical laugh bubbled out of his mouth. He felt tears of anger and regret trickle down his face.

He had forgotten the most important part of the curse. It took _equivalently_ regardless of what the original conditions were. When he had chosen to delay accomplishing the curse, it had tried to punish him. It was only because of Uncle Moony's intervention that his mind and soul had managed to come out relatively unscathed. More importantly, such uninhibited aid and concern on the part of the victim for their murderer did not come without a price.

Thus, because of his Uncle's help, the curse was unwilling to fulfill his original conditions. Instead, it had chosen its own rules of equivalency. Remus has fought to preserve Harry's memory and soul; therefore, the spell now made it so that Remus would be preserved as a ghost, a figment of a memory.

Alex's nails dug into his skin. His laughter had started to disperse, falling into choked, hysterical sobs that bordered upon insane. Merlin, he was so stupid. Golden eyes stared blankly at the ground, as his vision burred.

It was only when he felt the familiar chill of the undead that he looked up…meeting his Uncle Remus's pale, eerie stare. In the commotion, Alex failed to hear the door to the throne room slam open…admitting a pair of disheveled, stressed figures that were none other than Sirius Black and James Potter.

**TBC**

* * *

**If you enjoyed the chapter, please check out my ShortForm. The link is on my profile. Thanks!**


	31. Close

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Note: **Special thanks to the 346 awesome individuals who've checked out my ShortForm website! **I still need roughly 150+ more views to meet my quota for the week (in other words, extra chapter for you guys on Tuesday), so if you guys haven't checked it out yet...please do so. I'd really, really appreciate the help. **

**Story note**: Sorry there isn't too much action in this particular chapter. I wanted to work on characterizing some of my characters a bit better instead of rushing the storyline. But in the next chapter, you'll get the big kaboom that you guys have been waiting for these past...6 or so years. Hope you enjoy this chapter though!

* * *

**Chapter 31: Close

* * *

**

Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead as he and James ducked behind a stone statue to catch their breath. Sirius could hear both ferocious yells and curses behind them as the Order sought to eliminate as many Death Eaters as possible while the two of them stormed into the Throne Room. He stared enviously as James literally vibrated with excitement as they edged closer to the throne room. He wished things could be so simple for him…

Sirius was not scared for himself, per say, but for the _others._

Whenever the Order went into battle and it escalated to the point where killing their enemies was the only way to survive, Sirius admittedly got a bit antsy. It wasn't so much that he was a coward per say…but unlike most of the Order, he had _family_ on the other side.

Though he'd been disowned and declared a traitor by most of his family, it was still _hard_.

Sirius couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt every time he killed or severely injured a Death Eater. He would stare at those blank, elegant masks and wonder whether it was someone he'd once known, someone he'd once cared about, or someone he'd once _loved_. It would be so much easier if he hadn't known them. That he hadn't known that the Death Eaters were _humans_ too; they weren't simply the incarnate of evil, just simple, normal witches and wizards that made a wrong decision at some point in their lives.

He didn't know what to expect when the two of them stormed into the throne room. But one thing that he was certain of was that it would be that there would be carnage. They would have to kill in order to not be killed.

"Are you ready?" James asked, meeting his friend's gaze seriously. "We have to do this quickly to have any chance of success. We can't fight against Voldemort and all those Death Eaters and expect to survive. It'll have to be a quick look and retrieve mission."

Sirius nodded, biting down on his lip. Steeling himself he raised his eyes and met his best friend's concerned gaze. "Of course," he said, slinging an arm around James' shoulder. "I'm ready when you are."

James grinned, feeling relieved. "Thanks, mate."

Sirius gave him a mock salute. He felt something inside him soften at his friend's relieved expression. Despite not being able to shake off his feelings for his blood family, Sirius knew that he had made the right choice. The Marauders, the Order, they were his family now. Even if he had to rip his morals and emotions into shreds, he would do it in a heartbeat if that was what it would take to keep them all safe.

They were his true family now.

And if Sirius had to live out the rest of his life in guilt and misery for killing a close, blood kin…then so be it. It would be worth it. It had to be.

Without further ado, the two of them alerted the rest of the Order to their plans and then promptly stormed into the Throne Room, not knowing what they'd see.

* * *

**X

* * *

**

Translucent, pearly eyes stared down at the trembling child before him. Remus sighed softly as he studied his transparent, limbs before returning his attention back to the problem at hand. After viewing the boy's memories and seeing the boy's features, it was not that difficult to accept that the Dark Heir was in fact Harry James Potter. While a part of him rejoiced at the thought that his previously deceased cub was alive, another part of him was horrified.

While he may have been able to accept that Harry had been able to find happiness and acceptance at Voldemort's hands, it appalled him that in doing so…Harry had become his brother's greatest enemy. Nate Potter was the Chosen One and had been prophesized as the only one capable of destroying the Dark Lord.

It made him sick, thinking back on all the happy memories that his two cubs had shared.

Remus knew that sooner or later that the Order would attempt a rescue. And though he was beyond help, he had _information_ that could very easily change the tide of the war. If the Order found out who the Dark Heir was, it would be much easier to stage a capture. After all, by knowing that the Dark Heir was _Harry Potter_, he would no longer be an unknown entity. He would, undeniably, be easier to predict…

But at the same time, he did not want Harry to be returned back to the Potters. He had gone through his cub's memories and was appalled by his treatment. He didn't want to think about what the Potters would do to Harry if they found out that he'd become the Dark Heir.

As Remus pondered what to do, he heard the throne room doors slam open and his two best friends storm in. He didn't know what he _could_ do in this situation, but he knew what he _couldn't._ His cub was happy here and there was nothing in the world that would make him want to change that.

For his pack, he would do his best to protect them…even against one another.

* * *

**X

* * *

**

Barely suppressing the mirth from escaping his lips, Alex shook his head in disbelief as he noticed who had stormed into the throne room. This was, undoubtedly, the most surreal day he'd ever experienced. It was a flash back from hell. First he had seen Uncle Moony after so many years, then his…then _Potter,_ and then his Uncle Padfoot.

Twirling his wand, he tore his gaze away from Uncle Moony's floating, pearly form. It wouldn't surprise him if his Uncle told the Order his true identity. Alex's smile wobbled, though he kept his wand steady. He wouldn't blame his Uncle for telling them the truth, after all…how could he not? He had _murdered_ the only person who had loved him during his childhood.

He knew Potter and Black would attempt to capture him once they found out the truth; therefore, he had to be on guard. Ideally, it would have been best for him to escape from the scene as soon as possible…but he knew, undoubtedly, that their attention would be caught by the prone, dead corpse lying at his feet.

They had come for Uncle Remus.

And as the Death Eater standing the closest to their best friend's corpse, he would undoubtedly be blamed. Alex stifled his pain and tried to shift into a dueling stance, only to find his magic shifting uncomfortably. It had settled down from before, but it was not exactly calm enough to cast in a duel.

Cursing softly, Alex mentally signaled his father through their bond. He felt the barest flicker of pain as his father entered his mind, but after seeing his message his father quickly broke off their connection. Golden eyes glittered darkly.

Voldemort was coming.

And now that Uncle Moony was dead, he had little to no problems with dealing with James Potter. He knew that he could not get captured during the battle. He would rather die than to live with the Potters again.

Thus, as the angry pair of Marauders ran, cursing towards him.

Alex grimly stood his ground and prepared to fight. He caught the barest glint of translucent silver in the corner of his eyes, before Uncle Moony's figure stood before him obscuring him from the Marauder's view. The boy felt his stomach churn in guilt. Was his Uncle _still _protecting him? After all that he had done?

"Padfoot, Prongs," the ghost greeted, looking down at his two friends who had stopped short, eyes bulging in horror. Remus allowed the briefest hint of a smile to grow upon his face. "You're kind of too late…"

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry, I know you guys were looking for action in this chapter, but I wanted to work on characterizing Sirius, Remus, and Alex slightly better since they'll be important later in the story. There will be way more action in the next chapter.

**Meanwhile, have a HAPPY HOLIDAY and check out my ShortForm which is on my profile. THANKS! **


	32. Ghost of Yesterday

**Darkly Treacherous**

**By:** xxlostdreamerxz

**Note: **I am completely scrapping my outline for this fic and starting anew. DT was supposed to be the first part of a trilogy (which I refuse to write since it'll take forever). So I'm planning on ending DT in 3-5 chapters and then time skipping straight into Sullen Fate, which I had originally written as an AU ending/sequel to DT.

The premise is that 17 year old Alex Mortimer/Harry Potter is captured by the Light side after Nate destroys Voldemort. While the Potters deal with Harry's true identity, Alex/Harry is actively researching ways to use his father's Horocrux to revive him. It's only 5 chapters long at this point so it should be fairly easy to revise. If you guys are in any way interested, feel free to check it out (it's story #16 on my list).

**Special Thanks:** To all the people who visited my ShortForm and helped me win a point this week! _I'm on the 3rd week of the competition and I'd really, really appreciate it if you guys checked out the site again this week._ Thank you so much!

* * *

**Chapter 32: Ghost of Yesterday**

* * *

_Dark, green eyes peaked out from between the folds of the curtains. The small child stared solemnly at his uncles in turn before hesitantly taking a step in their general direction. His lip was pursed into a thin line and his posture was guarded as he left the safety of his personal haven. _

_"Come on, Harry,"_ _Sirius muttered, looking impatiently at the clock. "We're going to be late!"_

_At his Uncle's harsh tone, the boy took a step back. _

_They stood there, staring at each other, for one long painful moment, before Sirius cursed loudly and threw his hands up in the air. "I give up," he grumbled, turning towards Remus. "I'll grab Nate. See if you can convince our little scamp to hurry up." _

_Remus rolled his eyes as Sirius walked away. Holding his hand out, he waited patiently and silently for the boy to muster up his courage. To his surprise, without further ado, the three year old quietly tottered over to him and grabbed his hand. _

_"Moony," the boy said quietly, hugging the man's arm. _

_Remus's lips tilted upwards. "That's right, cub," he said warmly. "Uncle Moony."_

* * *

**X**

* * *

The two Marauders stared with mounting horror at the ghostly form of their best friend. James was the first to recover, managing to tear his gaze from the horrible sight of Remus's corpse and meet the ghost's gaze.

"Remus. Who did this to you?"

The ghost shrugged lightly, though his steely gaze never wavered. "Voldemort," he said, his voice echoing slightly as if spoken from a great distance. "He wanted me dead and therefore I am. If anyone is to be blamed, it would be him."

James shifted uncomfortably, feeling those unforgiving eyes turn to him. For some reason, he had the strangest feeling that Remus was _angry_ at him. But surely not…he _knew_ Moony. The man didn't have it in him to hold a grudge, especially against a close friend.

"Is there anything…" he cleared his throat awkward, as he waved his hands towards the corpse, "Is there anything that we can do for you? Any last requests?"

Remus gave his friend a flat stare. "Prongs, I'm dead. Earthly matters are beyond me now."

James flushed. "Yes, I know…but…you know what I mean," he finished awkwardly.

Suddenly thoughtful, the ghost slanted a glance back at Harry who was watching the proceedings with a hard, bitter expression upon his face. Remus felt his resolve harden. He wouldn't allow the Potters to take Harry again. He was _happy here_ and that was enough.

"Actually, yes…I do have a request."

James nodded seriously. "Tell us."

Remus hesitated, before speaking carefully. "The boy behind me," he said, shifting slightly so that James and Sirius could catch a glimpse of Harry. "I want you to promise that you won't harm him or attempt to take him away."

James craned his neck and met the boy's hostile gaze. "Who is he?"

The ghost and the boy exchanged a glance, before Remus answered. "I met him earlier in my cell," he said quietly. "He stopped one of the Death Eaters from harming me and healed me to the best of his abilities. I owe him."

Even though he knew that there was more to the story than that, James decided to let it go. It would be terrible of him to refuse one of his best friends' last requests. "I understand," he said seriously. "Sirius and I won't touch him. We swear it."

Remus smiled toothily. "Good."

* * *

**X**

* * *

As he watched his Uncle Remus interact with his blood father, Alex felt something ugly twist inside of him. _He,_ James Bloody Potter, _hadn't changed a single bit._ Potter still looked the same and behaved in the exact same arrogant manner as he had during Harry's childhood. Surely the man had been affected by his supposed death? Surely his ex-father had _grieved?_

The more he listened to their conversation, the angrier Alex became.

Though he had verbally disowned the Potters as his blood family, it _hurt_ finding out how little they truly cared. Alex had always believed that, despite favoring Nate, his parents cared for him… at least a little…deep down. It was illogically, but at the moment Alex wanted nothing more than to raise his wand and cut the man down.

He wanted to throw his true identity at the man's face.

He wanted to_ hurt_ Potter as much as he'd been hurt.

To make things worse, it made him angrier knowing that the Potters still held enough leverage in his heart to hurt him. Alex's fingers tightened against his wand. He wasn't the same weak child that they had thrown away.

He _wasn't. _

It should have pleased him to hear that his Uncle Remus had wrangled the terms of his release from the Marauders. He should have been relieved to find out that he wouldn't have to fight his way out…but he_ wasn't._

Alex clenched his teeth in fury.

Every single reservation he had about standing against his original family disappeared. Alex had believed for some time that the guilt of his supposed death would have been enough of a punishment for the Potters. After all, the guilt of indirectly causing your child's death should have been a heavy burden. He had believed that the Potters would mourn…and that they would change.

He wanted to _fight_, goddammit.

Almost as an answer to his wish, his magic suddenly surged sending a torrent of hot, burning accidental magic towards Potter. Alex's lips curled into a feral grin as he watched the man who had raised him, hurt him…slam harshly against the ground and begin screaming as flames of magic licked across his skin, creating lines of welts and burns.

He didn't care that his magic was unstable. It didn't matter that he couldn't use his wand.

All he wanted was for the man to _scream._

* * *

**X

* * *

**

The charged, angry surge of magic that rushed past him caused him to tense as his hair to stand on end. Sirius wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but he knew that he had to stop it_. _He could hear James' pained gasps as the magic tore into him, swiping at him with the collected elegance of a cat sharpening its nails.

His gaze fell upon the boy whom Moony had protected.

"Let him go," he snapped, raising his wand. "He didn't do anything to you."

At those words, the boy released a short, sarcastic laugh. Shaking his head, he walked closer to Potter's tortured form. "Are you going to curse me, Black?" he asked, golden eyes glittering with wild abandon as he walked closer. "Curse an unarmed child?"

Sirius's eyes hardened. "Don't push it."

There was a slight pause as the boy halted mid-step. "You're right," he said calmly, a strange expression upon his face. "I have no agenda against you. Step aside, Black, and I leave. I won't hurt you."

With gritted teeth, Sirius forced himself to act. "Reducto."

The boy's eyes grew dark as he stood his ground, allowing the spell to harmlessly land in front of him, scattering rocks and debris. Alex allowed the faintest of smiles to cross his face. "It's good to see that your morals are not as weak as before, Black."

Sirius frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The boy bared his teeth in response. "If you want to do something right for the first time in your life, take the werewolf's body and leave," he said harshly. "As a ghost, he is bound to whatever dwelling his body is buried near. Surely you don't want him to haunt the Hideaway forever."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Alex shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the ghost's presence. "The werewolf deserves better," he said flatly.

"I won't leave without Prongs," Sirius said harshly. "Let him go. I don't know what issue you have with him, but torture is not the answer. Talk it out. I'm sure whatever he did, it was an accident."

Alex's expression hardened. "An accident," he spat. "I'm sure."

Sirius stared at the child and quietly held his wand in the palm of his hand as an offering. "Let him go," he repeated.

Alex shook his head, feeling his anger mounting.

"_Never._ I'll never forgive him," he spat. Without meaning to, his magic captured Sirius in its grasps and began to _burn. _Alex watched, uncomfortably, as his Uncle screamed…however, he was soon distracted by a sharp tug at the back of his mind.

His _true_ father had arrived.

* * *

**TBC**

Note: **I'd really, really appreciate it if you guys would take the time to check my ShortForm. **The link is on my profile so please, please help out. _I will finish DT soon and then continue on its not-so-AU-anymore sequel, Sullen Fate, which I will later re-edit and re-write to link better to DT_. It'll be a lot of work, so please show your support and view my ShortForm. I'd totally appreciate it more than a review. Thank you!


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